


An Alpha Unbound

by sanguisuga



Series: Alpha/Omega Classifieds [2]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Greg, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bonding, But Mycroft loves it, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Greg is a Lucky Alpha, Greg is a bit of a possessive beast, Knotting, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mycroft is a Good Omega, No mpreg, Omega Mycroft, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Scent Marking, Self-Lubrication, Shameless Smut, Watersports, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 72,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg settling into Mycroft's life, and vice versa...</p><p>(Sequel to A Single White Omega Seeking Alpha.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft Holmes sat at his desk in his office, the shiny surface empty of all extraneous accessories, reflecting upon the void and also upon the past eight weeks of his life. It was almost laughable just how easily Gregory had established himself in his heart and in his home. What had begun as tentative weekends spent together had very quickly transitioned to Mycroft clearing a considerable space in his wardrobe for Gregory’s clothing and the odd little knick-knack simply showing up on the shelves in his study. He found that the small replica of the statue from _The Maltese Falcon_ was a well-manufactured example of its species, and nestled among his books quite nicely.

Mycroft could not quite say the same of the miniature red and blue ball covered with indecipherable scribbles, nor the strange little plush dinosaur outfitted with football gear. Gregory had simply grinned irrepressibly and called it a ‘Gunnersaurus’, which did absolutely nothing to alleviate Mycroft’s confusion or eliminate his amusement. However, he rather liked seeing it propped up against his copy of Darwin’s ‘On the Origin of the Species’, thinking it quite fitting, somehow.

Although his personal environment was quickly becoming more eclectic by the day, Mycroft found to his surprise that he did not mind any of it in the least, as the trinkets undoubtedly lent an air of whimsy to his previously stoic life. Seeing the bright flashes of colour here and there invariably reminded him of his lover, and thoughts of Gregory never failed to bring a smile to his face or a burst of warmth radiating through his chest.

He had been considering converting the mostly unused guest bedroom into a space strictly for Gregory’s use, however. Not because he wanted to squirrel him away or to hide any of his delightful ephemera, but because Mycroft understood that he would sometimes need a space all his own to retreat to. He abhorred the idea of a ‘man-cave’, the very phrase sending a shudder of revulsion through his belly. But in truth, Gregory did need something very much like that. A place where he could go to simply be on his own, to perhaps resolve a puzzle lingering in his mind from a recent case, or maybe to work on something a little more physical.

There had been more than a few nights during which Gregory had grown inexplicably restless, unable to settle by Mycroft’s side to take his well-deserved rest. He had tried to soothe him at first, drawing back as Gregory snarled softly, pacing up and down at the foot of the bed. So then Mycroft had chosen to entice him instead, going up on his knees and undoing his pyjama top slowly, one pearly button at a time, until his lover’s eyes were fixed on his long fingers, watching greedily as he slipped the waistband of his bottoms down and took himself in hand, being sure to make quite the production of it. Things had progressed very nicely after that, Gregory simply pouncing on him and taking over, wrapping his broad, strong fingers around the both of them until they spilled together, panting hot breath into each other’s mouths.

Yes, seduction had worked very well on one or two occasions, but it hadn’t always. No, sometimes Gregory just looked at him, his large brown eyes narrowed and distantly sad, before shaking his head curtly and throwing on his jogging shoes instead. With a muttered apology, he would slip out the door and down the stairs, going for a quick run around the neighbourhood. Or rather a long run, depending on what might be troubling him.

Mycroft would fret, of course, because that was his way, no matter how calm and composed he might seem when Gregory would return in the wee hours of the morning. His breath would be steady, but his clothing drenched in sweat, and Mycroft would only get the faintest whiff of his Alpha’s intoxicating scent before it would be scrubbed away in a very quick but very hot shower. Then he would fall into bed beside him and simply drift away without a word, his features weary, yes, but still held tight with some indefinable worry.

Mycroft knew that Gregory needed something more strenuous to help him get through these rough patches, something more aggressive to help run off that extra testosterone - something passive and unresisting to simply beat at until he was too drained to move. So Mycroft had called a contractor in to check the structural integrity of the spare bedroom, to ensure that the supports in the ceiling would be able to withstand the impact that would be delivered to the heavy bag that he had ordered just the week before. He hadn’t yet taken the step of actually hanging it, although he did have the hook installed. Nor had he called in someone to put together the top-of-the-line weight machine that he had also purchased, unsure as to how Gregory might react to simply being moved in without it having been discussed. It wasn’t like he didn’t have access to the same equipment elsewhere, either through the gym he belonged to via New Scotland Yard or at his own increasingly purposeless flat, but those options weren’t really feasible if he happened to get antsy at one o’clock in the morning.

Mycroft wasn’t trying to influence Gregory’s decision either way - he simply wanted to show him that _he_ was ready, that he wanted to clear a space for him in his life. As it was, he had plugged a hole in Mycroft’s existence that he had been totally unaware of up until the moment that Gregory had first stepped through his bedroom door. Since he had curled his body and his heart around him, sheltering him from the outside world and showing him how easily they had fit together. Like they were made for each other, odd little broken figurines that were made whole simply by being in one another’s presence.

Mycroft had made it perfectly clear that he still wanted to bond, that he needed it now more than he had even in the midst of his heat. But it seemed that Gregory was waiting for something, perhaps anticipating that one of his little idiosyncrasies would finally prove too much, that Mycroft would shriek at some imagined slight and cast him out of his home. Really, the mere idea was simply preposterous. So what if he habitually left his dirty pants or socks lying about - that just made it easier for Mycroft to dispose of them, slyly replacing the well-worn undergarments with items that were perhaps a little silkier, a bit more form-fitting. And it wasn’t like Gregory was the only one to take the odd little sip straight from the milk jug... Or a quick nip or two from the carton of ice cream, for that matter.

Mycroft’s stomach did a lazy flip as he recalled Gregory’s reaction to that little revelation. “What? Just what is _this_ nonsense, Mr. Holmes?” He had strode into the sitting room, where the film they had been watching was paused, as Gregory had been feeling a bit peckish and had wanted a snack. Mycroft blushed as he remembered the expression of pure innocence that he had tried to convey as Gregory held up the nearly empty container. “There’s barely even two spoonfuls in here! If you’re going to go for a little midnight nibble, you might as well just finish it off.”

“I have no idea what you’re on about. I wouldn’t do anything nearly as crude.”

“Uh-huh. This evidence clearly contradicts that statement, you filthy liar. Don’t you try to deceive a Detective Inspector, now. I bought this three days ago, and only had one small bowl that first night. So unless you have some particularly clever rats round these parts, you’re the most likely suspect. Occam’s Razor, love.”

Mycroft had fidgeted under Gregory’s glare for only a minute before he broke, all his years of training in anti-interrogation techniques dissolving under stern chocolate-brown eyes. “Honestly, Gregory! What did you expect? Bringing butter pecan ice cream under this roof. It is entirely your own fault and I shall admit no blame.”

“Right. Next time I’ll buy coffee, so I’ll get more than one tiny scoopful.” He had giggled merrily as Mycroft’s nose wrinkled in distaste, reaching out to pinch his chin in thumb and forefinger, holding the carton of nearly melted ice cream out of the reach of his lover’s grasping hands as he bent down for an almost unbearably tender kiss. “And perhaps a small butter pecan for you, my love. Can’t have you wasting away while on my watch.”

It was but one tiny but significant example of how well they worked, their individual preferences being sussed out easily, the knowledge almost instinctual. They belonged together, they worked together, they _fit_. So why was Gregory holding back? Mycroft had promised to give him all the time he needed, and he was trying to keep to that vow, but the need to hold him close within him, to be made part of him, was swiftly nearing desperation.

No, things could not continue on this particular path for much longer. A conversation was clearly necessary, although this would not be the first time he had attempted to broach the subject. Each time had been neatly cut off with a stern look from his Alpha, a look that clearly told him that he wasn’t ready. Well, this time Mycroft would simply have to insist. Wouldn’t he?

Mycroft swallowed uneasily, tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk. His stomach was roiling unhappily at nothing more than the mere idea of confronting Gregory, and he found himself suddenly wishing for an antacid. He startled slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket and took it out, frowning deeply as he answered immediately. It was never wise to ignore Sherlock’s calls, as he hardly ever phoned unless there was trouble.

“Sherlock?”

“Brother. You must come. We... He’s...” **  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have a few chapters written up, I was hoping to pace myself while I built up a bit of a buffer, but nahhhh... Instant gratification - wheeee!
> 
> Minor warnings for this chapter - there is a bit of unpleasantness involving a child (completely unrelated to any of the major characters!). Although certain nastiness is alluded to, I do not go into details. Please proceed with caution, however.
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to follow me down this path!

Mycroft was out of his chair at the first trembling note of fear in his brother’s voice, striding toward the door. He flung it open and gestured curtly at Anthea as he practically flew by her desk, knowing that she would alert George to be waiting for him downstairs, the car already running. “Sherlock. Where are you? What’s happened?”

“Crime scene. I’ve texted the address to your driver. It’s Lestrade - he’s...he’s gone mad. Or is about to. He's not quite out of control yet, but I think... I don't know - we don't know how to calm him. There was... Mycroft - the victim...a...a child. Young. So very young, so...small. And she was... “ Sherlock swallowed audibly as Mycroft’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Viola- _um_. Assaulted.”

He took in a deep breath, obviously intending to elaborate, but Mycroft cut him off as his guts twisted. “I don’t need the details, Sherlock. I believe I know what happened.”

 _“Mycroft...”_ Sherlock’s voice was small and frightened, so like the child that he used to hold close that Mycroft had to stop for just a moment just outside the lifts, bracing himself against the wall.

“I’m here, brother dearest. And I will be with you shortly.” Mycroft resumed his journey, striding into the garage and sliding straight into the backseat of the car that was waiting for him. George started to accelerate almost before the door was even closed behind him. He sent up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever force had seen fit to grant him access to staff that knew exactly what he needed at any given moment and acted accordingly. “ _Gregory_. Tell me what has happened to Gregory.” He met George’s hardened eyes in the rearview mirror as the car jolted slightly, a bit more force being applied to the accelerator.

“Nothing as of yet, although I believe there are some on his team that are debating whether or not to attempt to subdue him through physical means.” Sherlock let out a strangled noise that barely passed for amusement. “Or perhaps a tranquiliser dart.”

Rage flared white-hot in Mycroft’s head before he was able to clear it, pushing it down into a small ball of lead in his chest. “They...what?” His voice came out low and dangerous, and he heard Sherlock swallow again, a sharp click in his throat.

“He... When he arrived, he...he lost it, Mycroft. He just stood over the body and kept growling something to the effect of being able to smell the bastard on her. John managed to get him away from her, but not far enough. Whenever someone on the team tries to approach, to gather evidence, to take pictures, he snaps at them. Literally - like a rabid dog! Donovan barely managed to avoid getting bitten, Mycroft. _Bitten._ And that was just when she was trying to talk him down - she wasn’t even anywhere near the body!” Mycroft’s heart clenched again as Sherlock whimpered quietly in his ear. “I’ve never seen him like this - not even when I... He’s so _angry_...”

“Shh, little one.” Knowing what it would cost his brother to admit to his own fright, Mycroft soothed him as best he could. “You don’t have to say it. I’m on my way.”

“Good. You - you’re the only one who can get through to him right now.” There was a significant pause and a brief intake of breath. “It would be easier if you were bonded, of course.”

The somewhat snarky remark was tossed out a little too casually to fool Mycroft into thinking it was a sincere jab, but it stung nevertheless. It seemed that his little brother was just as anxious to see him bound to Gregory as he was. Heaven only knew why, as Sherlock always had his own motivations for any given situation, but he truly had been nothing but supportive of their burgeoning relationship. This had made both Gregory and him more than a little suspicious, but they had determined that questionable approval was far preferable to a cranky and contentious Sherlock.

So Mycroft did his damnedest to swallow down his anxiety, willing his voice to come out with its usual measure of dry acerbity. “You are undoubtedly correct, brother mine. However, I will see what I may do to calm him without the benefit of a bond.” There was another pregnant pause, wherein Mycroft’s heart plunged downward once again. The connection that he and his brother shared was truly remarkable at times, their minds almost as one. Mycroft knew what question was coming, and so he braced himself for what promised to be a truly uncomfortable conversation.

“Have you and Lestrade... Have you considered...or, um...well, discussed that possibility for yourselves?”

Mycroft winced as his stomach let out an unhappy grumble. “Children?” There was a quiet affirmation from the other end of the line, his brother humming vaguely in his ear. “We determined that responsibility was best left to those of a younger generation, brother dear. We are both too established in our rather turbulent careers to make such an addition to our lives, no matter how delightful it may be. And at my age, there would undoubtedly be...well - complications, especially since I’ve been on some form of contraception for nearly three decades.” Mycroft sighed. “It just isn’t a feasible option, I’m afraid. Perhaps if we had...earlier...”

“I’m sorry.” Mycroft’s breath caught at the deep note of aching sorrow in his brother’s voice. “I am _so_ sorry, Mycroft. I was jealous and greedy and so, so _stupid_. It’s my fault. You could have had so much more - more time, more happiness. More...”

“Hush, brother dearest. It’s not your fault. In truth, even if it were not for Gregory’s ex-wife being somewhat of an obstacle due to his own steadfast morals, I could not have taken that step before now. I was... Well, I was afraid. I was afraid to offer myself over to him, believing that I would get lost in him. Instead I find that I have somehow become...more. But that was not something I was prepared to risk all those years ago.” Mycroft laughed without humour. “Trust me, Sherlock. If it were meant to happen before now, it would have. Neither you nor that, that - woman - would have stopped me from pursuing Gregory had I simply been more courageous.”

“The courts would have ruled in your favour, you know. Had you and Lestrade had an affair, that is. Alphas and Omegas are meant to be together. Most likely their marriage contract would have been rendered completely null and void had she raised any fuss. She would have been left with nothing.”

“I’m well aware of the legalities of it all, brother mine. But you and I both know that Gregory would never be that cruel. He simply does not have the capacity for it. He did as he felt he must, as did I. Don’t forget that he did love her at some point.”

Sherlock sniffed imperiously. “Nothing like how he loves you, though.”

Mycroft’s chest filled with a suffuse warmth as he noted the finality of his brother’s tone. “No, my dear. Nothing compares to that.” His fingers clenched around his phone as George turned a corner and he caught sight of flashing lights through the windshield. “We’re just pulling up.” He swiftly tucked his mobile back into his inside jacket pocket as the car came to a smooth stop, exiting the vehicle immediately.

George was right behind him as he strode toward the scene, people clustered about in tight circles here and there. More than a few were looking to the centre of a small neighbourhood playground, toward a small form crumpled on the ground next to a dilapidated swingset. Someone had managed to lay a sheet over the poor unfortunate soul, but they clearly had not been able to get much further in their investigation as there was a decidedly agitated Detective Inspector prowling restlessly only a few feet away from the body.

John was standing nearby but not too close, holding out his arms in a warding gesture as he made his arguments. Mycroft was pleased to note that his demeanour was subdued rather than insistent, his posture slightly hunched, making himself appear smaller than he actually was. Sherlock was hovering quite a few feet away from the pair of them, just on the edge of what Gregory clearly felt was some kind of boundary. As Mycroft watched, his brother took a step forward only to back off as Gregory immediately turned to him with a snarl on his lips, his hands clenched into tight fists.

Mycroft winced imperceptibly as Gregory made a sharp turn, his feet treading well-worn ground, carving a deep rut in the earth. That odious Anderson person was muttering curses under his breath as Mycroft passed him by, and he spared a moment to cast silent daggers at him, but found that he couldn’t really muster enough venom. After all, there was a very definite chance that Gregory was stomping all over vital evidence, something that he was usually very conscientious about _not_ doing.

Sally Donovan was in the middle of another huddle, apparently the only cool head in the midst of a bunch of idiots, as they were contemplating simply rushing Gregory in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. “Listen, you numbskulls. He’s keeping to a relatively small area, right? You lot go busting in there, he’s gonna fight, and you’ll end up corrupting the entire scene! And do you honestly think that he wouldn’t give each and every one of you a black eye or a broken nose for your trouble?” Donovan levelled a warning finger at each of the sullen faces staring her down, one by one. “You do not want to be at the business end of that man’s fists when his blood is up. Trust me.”

“Quite right.”

Mycroft inclined his head as Donovan spun on her heels and breathed out a relieved, “Oh, thank Christ.”

“Indeed. Might I have a word?” She nodded curtly and allowed Mycroft to take her by the elbow, pulling her some distance from the band of treacherous curs. “I am going to try to get through to him, but I think that having so many people around is lending to the problem. You are all presenting as threats to him right now. If you would pull back, give us some air? Quickly, and quietly, please.” **  
**

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course.” **  
**

“I am indebted to you, Miss Donovan. When heads are clearer, I will tell Gregory the tale of your loyalty in the face of stark mutiny.”

Her face lit up briefly as she glanced at George, a silent and imposing figure at Mycroft’s back. “What else are first mates for?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaandddd another one before the weekend! Hoping to get some more cranked out, but with the holidays and with next week being busy week at work... But hopefully this will satisfy for at least a little while.
> 
> (Also wanted to add that this next bit may be a little intense - there is further explanation of what may have happened with the child. So please do be forewarned.)
> 
> Kisses, all! And if I do not post anything else before the holiday, I do hope you all have a delightful time doing whatever it is that you do.
> 
> :)

Mycroft gave Donovan’s elbow a brief squeeze and watched as she ushered her team further away and waved at Anderson to do the same. Then he turned back toward Gregory and took in a deep breath of relatively clear air before moving closer, gesturing for George to remain behind. Sherlock intercepted him, his face drawn and pale, his eyes tight and worried. Mycroft took a moment to clasp his upper arm, to bring their foreheads together briefly as a small measure of comfort for the both of them.

Together, they walked on, until the thing that Mycroft was dreading happened. His nose caught the girl’s scent, and that of her attacker and oh God... He clutched tighter to his brother as his knees buckled, fighting back against the gorge that was rising in his throat. He suddenly knew exactly what had Gregory so agitated, knew precisely why he had lost control. His head reeled as he bent over, a swift welter of heat prickling over his body, his vision beginning to narrow into a tunnel. Oh no no no, Holmeses did _not_ succumb to involuntary unconsciousness!

Mycroft barely heard Sherlock’s panicked whisper-shout, but then there were two pairs of hands on him, pulling him away, tugging him upwind of the victim, into clearer air. He came back to himself to find that he was flat on his back, staring up into the sullen sky with John tapping lightly at his cheeks. “Fuck.”

John sputtered out a quick burst of completely inappropriate laughter as Sherlock sighed in relief. “Now there’s something I never expected to hear from that tongue.” He nodded at Mycroft’s questioning glance. “Yeah. You went down like a ton of bricks.” John sat back on his heels and shook his head as Mycroft made to sit up, holding one hand firm to his sternum. “Might be better if you stay down for a bit.”

He blinked at him as he settled back down briefly. “Gregory. I must see to Gregory.”

Sherlock squinted over at the pacing figure, shrugging slightly. “He seems to have calmed down a bit since everyone backed off.” He turned his piercing gaze back down on his brother. “What brought on that rather distressing reaction?”

Mycroft sighed heavily, holding a hand to his stomach as he blinked up at the sky. “You are both of course aware that Alphas and Omegas have enhanced olfactory nerves. Whether normal betas can discern it or not, everyone has a distinct scent marker, something that delineates a person as an individual to our noses. However, no matter how unique someone’s scent may be, family members will of course smell similar. Bloodlines tend to carry a certain note through to the next generation.” He slowly sat up and shook his head as John and Sherlock glanced at each other, their faces gone hard with understanding. “That’s what Gregory was trying to convey when he said he smelled the bastard on her. It’s not just the - evidence - he left behind, it’s his scent - the underlying note is also that of the child’s. The perpetrator is a close male relative of the victim.” Mycroft threw a sidelong glance at Sherlock. “A brother, an uncle - perhaps even her...her f-father...” He swallowed against a fresh wave of nausea as his throat closed down around the last word.

“Would you be prepared to testify to that?”

Sherlock’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and without thinking, Mycroft reached out to touch his cheek with his fingertips, dropping his hand as the brilliant quicksilver eyes blinked slowly. “That will not be necessary, brother mine. The DNA analysis will undoubtedly be incontrovertible. The - animal - that did this was not at all subtle in his reprehensible actions. It was quite clearly a crime of...” Mycroft shuddered delicately as his upper lip curled into a sneer, “... _passion_ \- a loss of control. The only thing I can do now is see to it that Gregory’s team is able to complete their tasks and ensure that the poor child receives the justice she deserves.” All three of them looked at the lone figure standing sentinel over the body. The Detective Inspector had ceased his restless pacing, keeping his distance at the end of the path he had worn in the straggly grass, looking out over nothing in particular.

Mycroft sighed again and began to struggle to his feet, both of the men attending to him reaching out to help. He nodded at John’s concerned look, his slate-blue eyes ranging over his face for signs that he might keel over again. Sherlock’s inquisitive grunt made Mycroft smile crookedly, as it was directed at John, and not him. He watched circumspectly and with gentle amusement as the two of them efficiently and succinctly communicated nonverbally, all pursed lips, tilted chins and raised eyebrows.

“Thank you, Doctor Watson. I do feel much better.” John dipped his head curtly and took a small step back. “Sherlock, I must also ask you to retreat, I’m afraid.” He quirked a small smile at his brother as he warily glanced over his shoulder at Gregory. “I will be _fine_ , little one. If not, I know that you and John will not be far away.”

Sherlock’s eyes cut over to the formidable form of his driver, standing silent and imperturbable at the edge of the playground. “And George, as always.”

“Indeed. Please, go.” John hesitated only briefly before reaching out to give Mycroft’s arm a supportive squeeze, releasing him and immediately taking hold of Sherlock’s hand and pulling him away. Mycroft watched them go, his brother looking back at him with concern and sympathy in his eyes. Straightening his shoulders and perfunctorily brushing down his suit, Mycroft resolutely turned his back on all of them and focused his attention on his Alpha. Evincing a calm that he did not really feel, he began to approach the still figure.

When he reached the spot where Sherlock had been standing, he stepped over the invisible boundary without hesitation. He watched warily as Gregory’s shoulders tightened slightly, but he did not turn to attack. Mycroft obviously did not present as a threat to him, but neither was he seemingly worthy of any consideration at all, apparently. Treading carefully, Mycroft made his way to the other end of Gregory’s path, stepping into the groove that he had worn into the ground and traversing it until he stood within arm’s reach.

Every step he took made the ball of lead in his chest expand, the weight of it crushing the air out of his lungs. Struggling against the heaviness, Mycroft clenched his hands into fists before speaking tentatively. “Gregory?” There was absolutely no outward reaction, and Mycroft felt a swift spike of inexplicable loss shoot through his belly. Shaking off a sense of panic, he cleared his throat, willing his voice to come out with more authority. “Gregory Thomas Lestrade. Look at me.” The silver head twitched slightly, and then he was turning around, slowly, almost mechanically.

Mycroft’s breath caught in his throat at the vacant look in those otherwise lively eyes, the merry twinkle replaced with a flat, dull film. No, God no. He stepped forward without thought, placing both hands on Gregory’s face and bringing their foreheads together. “Gregory. My love, come back to me. Please.”

A swift shudder rocked through Gregory’s body, a harsh gasp for air rattling in his chest. “My...Mycroft?”

Mycroft nodded, knocking their heads together and not caring in the least. “Yes, my love. Yes, I’m here.”

Gregory’s hands came up to clutch at the back of his suit jacket, simply holding onto him. Mycroft pulled away far enough to look him in the face, his heart clenching as the blank expression was slowly replaced with anguish, his lover’s beautiful countenance crumpling as fear and loss and bone-deep rage all balled up into one welled up in his eyes. “This. This shouldn’t have happened. We - we’re meant to _protect_ our own, not, not - this. It wouldn’t have happened if I - if we...”

Mycroft felt silent tears streaming down his face as Gregory stared at him helplessly, his entire body held tense as a thrumming wire. Yes, of course. The discussion of potential offspring had been a fairly recent one, and even though they had both come to the same conclusion on their own before the subject had even been broached between them, that didn’t mean that the mutual decision was necessarily a happy one. Gregory had understood and had accepted that he would most likely never have children of his own, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the loss of it, that he couldn’t mourn.

Had this been his child, he would have seen her safe and protected, happy and loved beyond all reason. Had this been his - their - child, she would still be breathing.

Unable to bear the thought of it, Mycroft scrunched down and tucked his face into Gregory’s neck, rubbing his tear-stained cheek into his skin as his knees knocked together shamefully. “I can’t... My Alpha, please... Please take me away from this horrible place.”

Gregory’s body jolted, his instincts clearly pulling him in multiple directions. “But - she needs me. To...to look after her...to...”

Mycroft pulled away slightly, his fingers trembling as they caressed Gregory’s cheek, his neck. “ _I_ need you. She needs your team, Detective Inspector. If you allow them to do their jobs, they will find justice for her.” He kept his voice pitched low as he once again framed his lover’s face with his hands. “She will have _retribution_ , Gregory, I promise you. But only if you come with me now. Will you? Please?” He stepped away and held out his hand, counting his heartbeats until Gregory’s fingers reluctantly folded into his, waiting until he hesitantly took that first step on his own before tugging him in the direction of the car.

He held up a warning hand as Donovan started to move almost immediately, silently pleading with her to wait until they were in the car before swooping down. Gregory’s body was still tense, his steps stiffly precise and mechanical, and he knew that it wouldn’t take much for him to resume his previous position of guard dog if provoked in any manner. Mycroft was quite certain that if he returned to his vigil, there would be absolutely no budging him without the use of force. Thankfully, she had at least a modicum of sense, nodding curtly and watching warily as they slowly paraded past. Gregory’s hand tightened down on his painfully as he became aware of the intense scrutiny surrounding them on all sides.

George was waiting calmly at the car, holding the door open as he always did, his face carefully neutral. It wasn’t until the door was closed and the vehicle was in motion before Mycroft relaxed enough to let out a quiet sigh of relief. He winced slightly as Gregory’s fingers flexed around his, but they both kept their uneasy silence all the way back to his townhouse. Gregory would either talk about it or not as he chose, and Mycroft knew that prying would not be appreciated. After all, it wasn’t like he wasn’t feeling much the same way, only obviously not as intensely. **  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I like totally kicked butt at work today, got all of my major stuff done and a few twiddly bits, so I'm gonna reward myself (and my lovelies!) and post a chapter. Yay!
> 
> Let me know how I'm doing - I know it started out kind of intense...
> 
> Kisses, all!

Mycroft’s stomach was still roiling uneasily, and he clutched at it with his free hand as it began to burn, the digestive juices sizzling a hole through the sensitive lining. At least, that was what it felt like... He was reminded irredeemably of that atrocious science fiction slash horror movie that Gregory had made him watch only the week before. Particularly the scene when that somewhat dubious science officer had tried to remove that, that _thing_ from the man’s face, and the resulting splash of corrosive blood that had eaten holes through several decks of the spaceship. Acid for blood, yes - that was exactly what it felt like.

Gregory’s hand once again twitched around his hard, only easing as they pulled into his drive, as he released him and reached for the door handle. Gregory had the door open before the car had come to a complete stop, stepping out and taking in a deep breath as though the atmosphere within had been suffocating him. George was already standing at the head of the car as Mycroft emerged, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Mycroft beckoned him forward as he took Gregory’s hand, propelling him into motion as he had stopped dead at the doorway, that dreaded barren expression beginning to steal over his features once more. Mycroft’s stomach churned again, but he shook it off as best he could, tugging him into the house and up the stairs. He stopped at the first door on the left, and Gregory’s head tilted slightly, just enough that Mycroft at least knew that he was somewhat aware, and that this was not the destination that he had been expecting.

Taking in a quiet breath, Mycroft opened the door to what had been the guest bedroom and stepped in, gently dragging Gregory in behind him. George stopped at the threshold and waited, watching silently as the couple surveyed the wreckage within. The extra bed that had gone largely unused over the years had been dismantled, the frame and mattress leaning up against the wall to the left of the door. Off to the right was a large box containing the parts of an all-in-one gym machine, the seal not having been broken yet. And in the opposite corner, the heavy bag was propped up against the wall.

Gregory’s eyes immediately zeroed in on it and then darted up to the ceiling, taking note of the solid hook that had been installed, waiting to be put to use. Without a word he turned to Mycroft and clasped his face, his eyes suddenly burning with purpose. He laid a hot, rough kiss on his lips before releasing him, leaving Mycroft reeling. George gently pushed past him as Gregory shed his suit jacket, and between the both of them they had it hung in a trice.

George took his leave immediately afterward, nodding and quirking a sympathetic smile at his employer as he mouthed a silent, “Thank you,” in his direction. Mycroft leant up against the doorframe as Gregory swiftly stripped down to nothing but his pants and vest, seemingly ignoring him as he gave the bag a few exploratory jabs. With a sharp growl that sent a shiver of actual fear down Mycroft’s spine, Gregory drew back and began to attack his unresisting opponent in earnest, his calves and thighs tensing as he twisted at the waist, the muscles in his back and shoulders shifting underneath the thin material of his vest.

His form was naturally superb, arms up in a defensive posture with his shoulders loose, balancing gracefully on the balls of his feet as he pushed forward with his entire body. At any other time, Mycroft surely would have enjoyed being witness to such a display of masculine beauty and strength, but right at this moment, his lover’s actions were too full of anger and rage and loss for him to bear. While he really didn’t think Gregory would begrudge him a little peek of this side of him, Mycroft’s own emotions were simply too raw for him to process, and he felt that this moment was far too personal for him to intrude upon. So he backed away, the heavy thudding sounds of flesh hitting canvas and sharp huffs for breath following him down the corridor to the bedroom.

He closed the door firmly behind him and leant up against it briefly, absurdly thankful for the thickness of the wood as it shut out the sound of Gregory’s pain being made manifest. He dithered for a moment, feeling an uncharacteristic amount of doubt. Gregory clearly needed to work some of his emotions out for himself, but Mycroft wasn’t at all used to feeling quite so ineffectual. He wanted to help somehow, to put something into action that might relieve some of his lover’s stress. Simply having the equipment handy didn’t feel like enough, even though it was clearly the outlet that Gregory had been looking for. Mycroft sighed and toed off his shoes as he slipped his jacket off, carelessly draping it over the corner of the screen concealing the kitchenette.

He sighed again as he sat down at the end of the bed, his head feeling unaccountably heavy. Placing his elbows on his knees, he let it sink down into his hands, blinking at the floor between his feet. His mind went blissfully blank for uncounted breaths, nothing but odd little snatches of lullabies swimming to the surface every once in a while. Eventually Mycroft let his body go limp, lying down on his side and closing his eyes.

He didn’t think he slept, as he was dimly aware of the daylight in the room waning all around him. Although if he had, there was absolutely nothing restful in it whatsoever. He rolled over onto his back as the bedroom door opened and the light came on, sliding onto his feet as Gregory closed it behind him with a soft click. Mycroft lingered by the side of the bed for a moment, subconsciously inhaling deeply as his Alpha’s scent filled the room, enhanced by the thin sheen of sweat that was covering his body and making his undergarments cling to him most becomingly.

He straightened his shoulders as Gregory’s eyes raked over him, no doubt taking in the crumpled state of his clothing and the unsettled state of his mind. He stalked over to him, once again moving with more of his usual easy grace, his limbs fluid and muscles limber. Even though there was still anger in his head and his heart, it had seemingly been tempered, the easy set of his shoulders showing that it wasn’t overwhelming him anymore. Instead of it leading him, Gregory was once more in full control of it, lending him an air of hidden power. There was fatigue in the corners of his eyes, but not exhaustion, and they warmed slightly as he met Mycroft’s gaze. He felt something in his spine shake loose at that look, the tempest in his guts finally beginning to calm as he took in more of his Alpha’s scent.

Gregory reached up to cradle his face, bringing their foreheads together to mimic the pacifying posture that Mycroft had employed at the crime scene. “Thank you. For doing that for me - for thinking ahead.”

Mycroft slowly brought his arms up, clasping them around Gregory’s waist as he hummed low. “I didn’t want to presume...”

“But you haven’t, love. You knew that to make this my home as well as yours that I would need it.” He breathed out a quiet sigh against Mycroft’s lips. “You’ve known all this time. Christ, but I’ve been such a stupid bastard...”

“Never. I won’t tolerate that kind of thinking, Gregory. You’re much cleverer than you give yourself credit for.” Mycroft slid his hands up over the ladder of Gregory’s ribs, pulling him in closer, wrapping his arms around him securely.

Gregory sighed as he cupped the back of Mycroft’s head, rubbing their noses together gently. “No, I really have. Denying you what you’ve wanted from the beginning for no reason other than my own insecurities. Fears that have absolutely nothing to do with you, but I’ve been punishing you for them nonetheless. I’ve been punishing us both. I’m an idiot.” Mycroft chose to keep quiet, his heartbeat beginning to pick up its pace in anticipation. He caressed Gregory’s back in long, slow sweeps as his lover took in a shuddering breath. “Earlier... I didn’t even know you were there, love. Your voice... I couldn’t hear it, not properly. Not until you forced me to listen, when you put your hands on me. I should’ve known you were there, and if we were bonded, I would have. You would’ve calmed me right down.”

“Gregory...”

“I couldn’t _feel_ you.” Greg pulled away and looked Mycroft in the eyes, an urgent sense of desperation clawing at his chest. “Tonight, I want you to take me. Please, my love. I don’t want to think anymore, I just want to feel. I want to feel _you_.” He thumped one hand on his chest, over his heart. “I need to feel you _inside_ me.”

Mycroft’s response was to pull him back in, grabbing hold of two fistfuls of divinely muscled arse and squeezing hard. Gregory grunted as his mouth was invaded, but moaned low in his chest as Mycroft pulled away to nip at his jawline, to lick at the sweat cooling on his neck. “As you wish, my Alpha.” Yes, this was something that he could do, something tangible to help ease his lover’s mind, to soothe his body. Mycroft sighed as his brain and stomach finally settled completely, now that he knew what course of action to take, now that he had a clear path to follow.

Greg huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as Mycroft impatiently tugged at his damp boxer briefs. He peeled himself out of his sticky vest, pulling a face at his own ripe aroma. “Maybe I should shower first, hm?”

Mycroft glared and gave him a little shove, showing his teeth as Gregory fell back on the mattress with a low shout of surprise. “Don’t be absurd. You smell so unbelievably _delicious_ right now. Get on your belly.”

Greg’s spine wobbled with a swift spike of desire at the curt command, his face breaking out into a grin. “Yes, sir.” He rolled over and spread his legs, pillowing his head on his crossed arms. He had no idea what his Omega’s intentions were, but he was more than willing to simply let him take the lead.

For his part, Mycroft found himself staring down at his unexpected banquet, silently pulling the knot in his tie loose and slipping it over his head. He shed his waistcoat as well, idly tossing it on the floor behind him as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He licked his lips as he put one knee on the mattress in between Gregory’s legs, running his hands up his calves. Mycroft tilted his head as the muscles in the back of his Alpha’s thighs jumped under his gaze.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed with this particular act, as he’d as yet only been on the receiving end, and that had only been during his heat. It seemed that Gregory wasn’t quite as keen to bury his face in between his arse-cheeks when he wasn’t dripping with his natural juices, although he had certainly been eager enough for other acts. Even though they fit together like puzzle pieces, their lives settling into a comfortable routine laughably easy, they were still new enough that their lusts ran hot and quick. Their couplings weren’t exactly routine, but they did have a tendency to proceed along their natural roles, with Gregory taking the lead and Mycroft being swept along in his wake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crazy rush at work is mostly over, just have to go back and tidy up a few things, so I thought I'd reward myself by posting another wee chapter. 
> 
> Yay!

Although before Gregory, Mycroft hadn’t really had to deal with experiencing desire in his day to day life, and the randomness of it often surprised him. All it would take was a simple glance, a seemingly innocuous but terribly intriguing noise, and he would be struck dumb with need. Gregory would notice, of course, because he was attuned to the workings of his Omega’s body, because he could bloody well smell his arousal, a heady thought that would only serve to increase Mycroft’s urgency. Gregory would set aside whatever it was that he had been occupied with before he distracted Mycroft’s attention by being so damned enticing and come to him, either sinking down on his knees in between his lover’s thighs or pulling him from his seat and simply bending him over the kitchen table before taking his due.

If they’d had intercourse the night before, and they usually had, Mycroft would still be open enough that a spit-slicked cock and a little persistence would be sufficient enough to get the fun started. Embarrassingly enough, this tended to happen with some regularity on weekend mornings, with Gregory getting interrupted as he attempted to cook breakfast for the both of them. They had ruined quite a few eggs in their somewhat brief time together, and had burnt innumerable slices of bread. Mycroft had developed an almost Pavlovian response to the smell of toast at this point, becoming unsure as to whether the rumblings in his stomach were from hunger or desire.

But this... This was something that Mycroft often thought of doing, but the opportunity had not come up before now. With Gregory laid out before him, absolute trust radiating from his relaxed posture, he simply could not resist. He went to his knees and bent over him, peppering gentle kisses along the small of his back and massaging the globes of his arse, smiling as Gregory sighed softly. He laid the flat of his tongue on the hollow of his lover’s tailbone, chuckling as Gregory jumped slightly. He moaned and shifted underneath him, pushing up his hips and spreading his legs wider as Mycroft’s intention became abundantly clear.

“A-are you sure, love?”

“Hush, you.” Gregory giggled and turned his face into the mattress as Mycroft pinched both cheeks before spreading them wide. He hovered over his prize for a long while, simply gazing on the natural beauty that his lover was offering up to him. Every crease, every wiry hair and dusky wrinkle was his to do with as he liked. He brought his nose a bit closer, inhaling deeply, pressing a soft kiss to one cheek as Gregory squirmed a little uneasily. “Gregory. Don’t fret yourself. Honestly, if I didn’t want this, you know that I wouldn’t do it.”

“It’s just that I’m muckier than usual and all...”

Mycroft hummed and darted his tongue out, moaning low as his Alpha’s unique aroma filled his senses, all musky spice, earthy and dark and sweet and bitter all at once. “Oh _yes_. Yes, you are. And it’s glorious.” Gregory whimpered and went up on his knees, spreading his legs wide, all of his previous reluctance disappearing in a flash. Mycroft hummed his appreciation, nuzzling into his lover’s heated flesh in gratitude. He ran his nose along the heavy bollocks hanging low, sighing as he caught the enhanced scent of his Alpha.

Gregory shifted again, pushing his hips up as Mycroft reached up to cup his sack, bouncing the softly-furred mounds gently on his palm before closing his fingers around them and squeezing gently. He flickered his tongue up the seam between, licking up the lingering residue of the sweat that had no doubt dripped down and pooled between Gregory’s legs as he exercised the pain from his mind. Sliding his hand up so that it was pressed flat against the magnificent cock that was already hard and straining, Mycroft gave him one slow, long stroke, licking at him at the same time.

The noise this elicited was just as intoxicating as the taste, making Mycroft’s eyes roll back in his head, a swift shiver running up his spine. He spent a fair amount of time simply swirling his tongue around and over as he continued to run his palm up and down Gregory’s length. Every jolt and shiver, every low moan made his own cock throb in his pants, but he was determined to ignore it until he had tasted every bit of the delicious man laid out before him.

It didn’t take long before he was unable to hold himself back from delving into that fine arse in earnest, giving Gregory’s prick a soft squeeze before releasing him and using both hands to spread his cheeks. With a soft snarl and a gentle nip, he began to work his tongue inside, massaging around the rim with his thumbs at the same time. Gregory shifted underneath him, one of his arms making its way beneath his body, his intention quite clear.

“No.” Mycroft growled low as Gregory froze, looking back at him in surprise. “You keep those hands where I can see them, Detective Inspector.” He tilted his head as his lover blinked slowly, fixing gazes with him over the pleasing roundness of one arse-cheek. Keeping eye contact, Mycroft opened his mouth very wide and then bit down hard.

Gregory let out a high-pitched yelp as the muscles held in Mycroft’s teeth clenched, his body jerking away reflexively. He quickly subsided, his thighs tensing as he turned his face into the mattress and held his hands up briefly. “Yes, sir.”

He put them down and started to slide them up, under the pillows. Mycroft snarled and shook his head viciously before releasing him, pressing one thumb down on his centre as he admired the stark redness of the mark that he had left behind. “I _said_ , where I can see them.” Gregory froze again before his hips rolled minutely, and his hands once more came into view. Moving slowly and deliberately, he twined his fingers together and placed them on the back of his head, making no further show of disobedience.

Mycroft shivered at the sight and rewarded him with a fat, sloppy kiss, using his saliva to ease his thumb into Gregory’s body. From this vantage point, he could no longer bear witness to the strength in his lover’s arms and back, but he could certainly feel it in the tension of the flesh under his fingers. He pulled down with his thumb, opening Gregory’s hole so he could really delve into it, marvelling at the silkiness of the flesh within. Deftly switching middle finger for thumb, Mycroft began to slide it in and out in slow shallow thrusts.

Gregory’s arse flexed around him and a nearly silent groan vibrated through his body, and Mycroft simply could not resist touching him, running his unoccupied hand everywhere he could reach. Pinching at the tender skin of his inner thighs, scratching his nails down the sculpted back, digging his fingers into the substantial muscles of his thighs hard enough to leave bruises, Mycroft did everything in his somewhat limited power to lay claim to his lover’s body, marking it as his own.

Gregory clearly appreciated his tender brutality if his noises and movements were anything to go by, and it wasn’t long at all before the judicious use of saliva and a bit of persistence saw two fingers buried deep, wiggling gently. It wasn’t until Mycroft deftly slipped his free hand between Gregory’s legs, once again stroking him with practised ease that his lover turned his head, taking in a sharp gasp for air while letting out a pained moan, nearly choking himself in the process.

_“My-Mycroft...”_

Mycroft pulled away slightly, probing delicately around the rim of Gregory’s hole with a third finger as he deftly slid his foreskin up around the head of his cock and twisted his wrist. He grinned mentally as his lover shuddered out a breathy groan. Yes, Mycroft had always been quite proficient at multitasking, and his being ambidextrous as well was turning out to be quite the boon for his dear Gregory. “Yes, my Alpha?” He quickly ducked his face back down between his lover’s cheeks, giving him another long, wet lick before beginning to work a third finger in.

“ _Ngh_ , God - please!”

Mycroft didn’t bother to ask Gregory what he was begging for, as he knew what it was all too well. How many times had he pleaded for the very same thing, the sweetness of release, the sharp spike of mixed pleasure-pain that made his overactive brain blissfully short out for a few minutes of utter peace and calm? Of course Gregory liked to tease him, to draw it out so that when his orgasm struck, it would be so intense that it would overwhelm him. He always knew exactly what Mycroft needed, and knew just when to give it to him.

Although Gregory’s voice hadn’t quite hit that desperate, strident tone just yet. But it was clearly a signal that Mycroft should move onto another act, one that would be easier for him to facilitate his lover’s release, whenever he should choose to give it to him. Withdrawing his fingers and giving one cheek a tender nibble, he gently tapped at one of Gregory’s hips, silently demanding that he turn over.

Gregory scrambled to obey, flipping over and eagerly spreading his legs, shaking out his hands and fingers before once again twining them together under Mycroft’s watchful eye, placing them on the top of his head. He winked saucily as his Omega nodded his approval, making Mycroft roll his eyes and duck down for a hearty nibble on the inside of one magnificent thigh. Gregory groaned as his flesh twitched, throwing his head back and wriggling wantonly into the mattress.

Mycroft reluctantly let him go just long enough to slip out of the rest of his clothing, taking his time with the multitude of fastenings, cocking a saucy eyebrow as Gregory writhed vigorously. His lover's impatience faded with a sharp snort of laughter as Mycroft balled his shirt up and tossed it to land on the other side of the bed, his trousers and pants quickly following thereafter. He preened silently as his Alpha’s eyes raked appreciatively over his exposed skin, as he licked his lips in anticipation and canted his hips toward him.

Mycroft took a moment after climbing back on the mattress to simply look and to feel, clasping both of Gregory’s hips hard before running his hands up his sides and over his chest and sliding back down, his palms dragging over the soft flesh of his belly and then further down.

Gregory gasped, once again undulating his body under his lover’s greedy gaze. “Oh, love...your hands... _mhmyes_... Oh, but I love the feel of your hands on my skin.”

Mycroft smiled crookedly. “More than you love the feel of my mouth on you?”

He stuck out his tongue as Gregory’s cock twitched heartily and the poor beleaguered man let out a beautifully anguished moan. “Well, now... I wouldn’t say that. Perhaps I love both equally.”

Mycroft settled back onto his belly with a sultry chuckle. “Liar.” Gregory giggled merrily, but his amusement petered out into soft huffs for breath as Mycroft pushed at his thighs, holding his arse nicely exposed for him. He once again employed his tongue to ensure that his lover was open and sufficiently slick to accept the probing of three fingers, sliding them in with a little hum. Mycroft nosed at his Alpha’s bollocks, licking and nuzzling at them until he felt Gregory’s body relax around him minutely.

_“Ohhh..."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins a new week, and I have a new chapter to share! Yaaaaay! *muppet flailing*
> 
> Please read, please comment if you are so inclined.
> 
> I adore you all, and I hope you had a wonderful holiday. One more to go!

Oh, indeed. Now this - this was a task that Mycroft had become very well acquainted with since taking up with Gregory. He truly loved his Alpha’s cock, loved to worship it, to pay homage with fingers and lips and teeth and tongue. He absolutely adored Gregory’s natural musk, the warm spice only enhanced by the salty-sweet tang of the sweat lingering in his pubic hair. Mycroft could spend untold minutes simply mouthing at and nuzzling around the base, rubbing his nose and cheek along the shaft and licking delicately at the slit before working his tongue under the silky foreskin. And then when he finally closed his lips around it and slid down - _oh_.

All in all, it was a magnificent instrument, and Mycroft took great pride in learning how to play it to the greatest advantage, in learning how to make Gregory’s body sing for him. His lover was always beautifully responsive for him, guiding him with gentle hands and an even gentler voice how to please him best. Except when he was in a less than gentle mood, of course - when he had Mycroft on his knees before him, when he would hold him in place and simply take his pleasure from his Omega as was his due.

Even with as many wonderful things as they had done together, Mycroft still remembered the first time he was able to fully take Gregory into his mouth as one of his favourites. It had been their first night together after the completion of his heat, and they had both been somewhat languorous, their bellies full with the casserole that George had thoughtfully left for them and their bodies still aching sweetly from all of the exertion of the week before.

They had been curled up together on the sofa in the sitting room, watching something old on Mycroft’s absurdly fancy television. He couldn’t even remember what the film was, just that it was in black and white, and that it was rather obvious that neither of them was paying it the least bit of attention. Particularly when Mycroft slipped a hand under Gregory’s vest, his fingers tripping and tangling in the abundant hair, ‘accidentally’ grazing over his nipples and down his sternum, tickling around his sweet little bellybutton. Gregory’s cock had twitched against his hip, and Mycroft had turned a knowing smile on him as his Alpha pursed his lips sheepishly.

Gregory had demurred, because he was a gentleman, because he knew that they were both still rather knackered from their previous encounters, and that _‘just because he’s awake doesn’t mean you need to say hello, love’_... He had demurred again at the peaceful but undeniably insistent expression that his Omega had turned on him. Mycroft had perhaps been a trifle over-eager in his attempts at the very beginning, and quite definitely overconfident in his abilities, as he had caused himself to choke several times, producing an alarming amount of saliva. Gregory had pulled him off at each unfortunate coughing fit, soothing him wordlessly, running his fingers through his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks with a reverent thumb while his lover had regained his breath.

Mycroft had persisted, because he was quite obstinate when tackling a new problem, and he was intent on reaching a satisfactory conclusion for the both of them. Gregory was clearly cognisant of this fact, and beyond his initial statement that it was unnecessary, he did not try to dissuade Mycroft from completing his personal mission. When he was finally able to master an acceptable rhythm and speed, Gregory’s resulting orgasm was truly beautiful to behold, something soft and deep and clearly overwhelming, as he had been riding the edge of his arousal for quite a while. Mycroft had continued to milk his lover’s cock throughout it all, watching intently as Gregory groaned and stretched underneath him, his eyes fluttering as his stomach muscles contracted and released in slow, rolling waves. His spend had been colourless and virtually tasteless, just the barest hint of salt lingering on Mycroft’s tongue.

Gregory had smiled crookedly as Mycroft ran his fingers over the head of his cock, through the small mess left behind, rubbing them together curiously. “Won’t be as pleasant as that in a day or two - once I’ve replenished the stores, as it were. You did a remarkable job in draining my bollocks quite dry, my love.” He had pulled Mycroft up into him, and it wasn’t until Gregory kissed him almost unbearably tenderly that he even became aware of his own arousal, his own need.

Whispering sweet praises and filthy encouragements into his hair, his Alpha had reached between them and taken him in hand, stroking him with a light but sure touch. At the first swipe of his thumb over the sensitive head of his prick, Mycroft had come rather suddenly, a sharp spike of pleasure that made his body shudder uncontrollably as his voice caught in his throat. He had made rather a mess of Gregory’s hand and his vest in equal measure, but of course he simply shrugged out of it and used it as a rag on the both of them before tossing it on the floor.

Curling himself around his Omega’s somewhat limp form, he had efficiently tucked him up against his chest, somehow making the narrow sofa into a makeshift but perfectly adequate bed. They had drifted together in between bouts of low conversation and slow, deep kisses, and when Mycroft had roused himself it had gone nearly three in the morning. How he had managed to get his own stiff carcass as well as Gregory’s up the stairs and into a proper bed was still a bit of a mystery to him.

Not that it mattered, since he had him laid out before him now, his eyes wild, his lips trembling. Feeling a swift spike of desire low in his belly that was too strong to ignore, Mycroft decided to forego any further teasing. Licking up his Alpha’s shaft and meeting his eyes, he wrapped his free hand around the base and quickly set up a satisfactory rhythm. Gregory’s head bounced against the mattress as his back bowed, driving his prick even further into Mycroft’s mouth.

He hummed low in his chest and concentrated on the thick flesh that was at his mercy, every action building upon the previous, his own anticipation building with every passing second until Gregory suddenly thrashed underneath him, bucking him off efficiently. “Love no, please _no_ \- not like that please.” Mycroft wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and tilted his head inquisitively as his lover shook his head desperately. “Want to come with you inside me, please. I need to feel your cock. _Please..._ ”

Mycroft slowly gathered his knees underneath him as Gregory squirmed, the muscles in his arms tensing as he fought to keep from simply reaching out for him. Mycroft sat back and fumbled blindly in the drawer of the bedside table, eventually coming up with a bottle of lube. Gregory moaned and shifted his legs, slipping them around his lover’s waist and attempting to pull him closer. Mycroft tried to give him a reproachful look, he really did, but that vanished at the expression of unbridled joy that was lighting up his Alpha’s face.

He managed to take his time in slicking his cock, though, maintaining eye contact as he went up on his knees and stroked himself oh-so-slowly. Gregory whined with greedy impatience, and the sound struck a chord so deep in Mycroft’s belly that he shuddered, his control slipping. Shuffling closer, he probed delicately at his lover’s entrance with the head of his prick, sighing as Gregory hoisted his hips up just a bit higher, rubbing against him.

Mycroft pushed, just a little, just enough to pop into place, and then he held himself perfectly still as Gregory trembled and shivered around him. When his Alpha’s body had subsided, he took in a deep breath and then another before shoving forward hard, exhaling all of his air at the same moment. The resulting sensation of pressure against his lungs and wet slick muscle gripping his cock tight made his vision swim briefly, and he once again held himself still until he was able to see clearly.

“Oh. Oh, _Mycroft..._ ”  Gregory’s legs winched up higher around his waist as he strained toward him, and Mycroft ducked down for a heady and deeply satisfying kiss. He began to thrust languidly as he nipped at the skin underneath Gregory’s jaw, working his way down his neck. “God yes, but you feel wonderful...” Mycroft sighed into his lover’s clavicle as he slipped his arms under his shoulders, pressing their torsos together as he continued to move in long, steady strokes. “Just like that, oh Jesus... My sweet little Omega knows just how I like it, doesn’t he? Knows just how to please his Alpha, yes he does...” Mycroft snarled and bit at Gregory’s neck, saving his breath for fucking, his hips picking up in their rhythm and speed almost as if they had a mind of their own.

Gregory groaned and stretched underneath him and suddenly his arms were around him, one hand coming up to cup the back of his head, holding him close. Mycroft thought about objecting, thought about reprimanding Gregory for disobeying his orders, but then there was a low sob in his ear, a clear sound of regret, and he just had to push himself up slightly, looking down into a face that was guilty and contrite and desperate all at once. Gregory’s thighs tightened around him as he slowed his pace, and he pulled him back down into a kiss that was so intense that it almost felt like he was trying to draw Mycroft into him. Like he wanted to pull him down into his lungs, as though he wanted to trap him inside his ribcage and never ever set him free.

Mycroft broke away with a little gasp of wonder, of realisation. “You... You understand now, don’t you? You feel it too.” Gregory nodded, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Now you know how I’ve felt this whole time.”

“I do. Oh God, I do and I am so sorry, my love. So, _so_ sorry... Can you ever forgive me?”

Mycroft groaned and _pushed_ , burying himself in his lover’s heat time and time again. “Yes. Always, my Alpha. Always...” He clutched at him tighter, feeling the glorious hard length trapped against his belly as he thrust time and time again, listening to Gregory’s soft cries getting louder as his thighs began to twitch, and Mycroft sank his teeth into the neck that was bared for him, his hips moving in a frenzy until he pushed in deep and stayed there, grunting out his pleasure as his cock pulsed and released.

He was only dimly aware of Gregory slipping a frantic hand between them, although it only took a few swift hard jerks until his belly was flooded with hot come, the solid body trapped underneath his twitching so violently that he was almost thrown free. Mycroft tightened down with everything in him, his arms, his teeth, his hips, grinding deep into his Alpha’s body as if he never wanted to let go.

Because he didn’t, naturally. No, he was feeling the same as his lover, that urge to claw open his own skin and stuff his partner inside him so that he would be with him forever. Gregory sighed quietly in his ear and groaned as he unwrapped his legs from around his waist, setting his feet on the mattress. He didn’t attempt to dislodge Mycroft’s teeth from his neck or try to push him off. He simply swept his hands up and down his back, humming low, comforting noises all the while.

Mycroft whined with displeasure as his spent cock slipped free, finally unlocking his jaw and pushing himself up creakily. Gregory winced slightly as he turned his head to look at him, and Mycroft smirked smugly at the thought of the mark that would be left behind. It wasn’t like his Alpha hadn’t left any marks of his own for Mycroft to attempt to conceal from his colleagues at work upon numerous occasions... Oh, but work - would Gregory even be going down to the Met tomorrow?

He opened his mouth to ask, but blinked as broad fingers suddenly pressed up against his lips. “In a bit. Let’s shower first, yeah? Get nice and comfy before we talk. About today...and about the future.”

Mycroft blinked and nodded before slithering free, coming to his feet somewhat shakily. “Yes, my Alpha.” He held out a hand and waited for Gregory to push himself up into a seated position before tugging him upward and in the direction of the shower.

Mycroft made it clear to his Alpha that he was still in charge for the moment, silently pushing him into the shower cubicle and up against the wall as he reached for the tap. Gregory chuckled silkily and obediently stayed where he was put, once again twining his fingers together at the back of his head as he put his cheek to the cool tile. He ‘assumed the position’ with a low hum, spreading his legs and waiting patiently.

Not that he had all that long to wait, because Mycroft had a distinct lack of control when it came to laying hands on his lover’s fine figure when it was so eagerly on display for him. This evening was apparently no exception, as Greg shivered at the sensation of one elegant finger tracing down his spine, and he tilted his hips back as that same digit slid in between his arse-cheeks. Warm breath ghosted over the shell of his ear as it probed at his still-slick entrance, and he pushed back against it as it slid in easily.

Mycroft growled faintly as Greg whimpered, as he tried to take him in deeper, sucking in a shuddering breath. “Hah… You did so well, my love - fucked me beautifully, yes you did - made me feel so _good_...”

Mycroft let out a strangled sound as he pressed his forehead into his Alpha’s back and withdrew his hand, clasping his hips and grinding into his backside. “Naturally. As you commented earlier, I know just how to please you, my Alpha.”

“Mycroft...”

“Hush.” Gregory subsided as Mycroft fiddled with the taps, getting the water nice and warm before directing the spray at his lover’s back. He soaped up a flannel and began to wash him slowly, taking special care with all of his filthy nooks and crannies. Gregory chuckled quietly as he was turned around and pushed back against the wall again, blinking his eyes against the spray as Mycroft nuzzled into his stinky armpits oh-so-briefly before scrubbing them thoroughly. He tilted his head back and let the love and caring that his Omega was pampering him with just wash over him, leaving his heart so full that he was nearly overwhelmed with it.

Mycroft kissed the underside of his chin before taking him by the upper arms and manoeuvring him under the spray, reaching up to wash his hair, teasingly brushing up against him and backing away as Greg’s arms twitched toward him. “Devil.” Mycroft tilted his head with a coquettish grin, stepping closer and pressing his entire body against him as he tipped Greg’s head back, rinsing him clean.

Without a word, he gently pushed him back against the wall, holding a warning finger to his lips before taking the flannel to his own skin. He didn’t dally, but neither was he particularly quick, clearly taking great pleasure in putting on a little show for his lover, casting sultry glances at him from over a freckly, sudsy shoulder.

Greg growled low and fidgeted before putting his hands back on the top of his head in an attempt to maintain his control. He flexed unnecessarily as Mycroft turned back from rinsing, taking an inordinate amount of pride in the way his Omega’s mouth dropped open upon seeing him. Mycroft reached out blindly to turn the water off, his eyes raking up and down his lover’s body. Greg grinned as a certain part of his anatomy gave out a hearty twitch, and he pushed away from the wall, his knees creaking as he prepared to go down on them.

Mycroft swiftly put a hand to his sternum, glaring at him with an odd mixture of stern rebuke and hopeless desire. “As much as I would dearly love to feel that wicked tongue of yours put to its proper purpose, you promised me a chat.”

Greg sighed and nodded, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Although his mind was still unsettled by the events of the day, it was more the thought of revisiting the pain that he had put his lover through by denying him the bond he so clearly desired - that they both needed. Christ, but he’d been _so_ stupid...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Last chapter of 2015! Whee! Not the last chapter of this story though - more to come in the new year...
> 
> Kisses, all. 
> 
> And wishes for a grand 2016 for each and every one of you.

Mycroft ran his hands over Greg’s damp skin soothingly, cupping his face in his hands. “Oh, my love... Stop berating yourself, please. You believed that you were doing the right thing, and I do not blame you for it in the least.” He leant forward as Greg sighed, kissing the corners of his mouth. “Even though I will admit to some degree of disappointment that it did not happen during our earliest couplings, I truly do not begrudge you any of the time that you needed to be sure. I knew that we had the rest of our lives to be together, whether bonded or no.”

“My sweet little Omega. You’ve shown such faith in me. I don’t deserve it.”

Mycroft quirked a superior eyebrow. “I am not in the habit of doling out rewards that aren’t extremely well-deserved, Gregory.”

Greg chuckled faintly and let his arms fall around his lover, smiling as they settled around his waist as though they simply belonged there. “And of course you are the arbiter of all things right and proper.”

“Naturally.” Mycroft raised his nose imperiously and tugged himself free, beckoning Gregory forward with one demanding finger. “Come now, dry yourself before you get the sniffles on top of everything else.”

Greg once again resisted the urge to simply sweep his Omega off his feet and toss him down on the bed as they both took up towels and rubbed each other down vigorously. Traipsing back out into the bedroom, Mycroft turned down the bed and waited for Greg to crawl back into it before sliding in between the covers himself. Greg felt his eyebrows raising, as Mycroft rarely went without pyjamas, even when he was anticipating that a bit of fun might occur.

He understood him so well, knew that he was feeling the need for that small bit of intimacy. Greg had always preferred the feeling of skin on skin when it came to those precious moments, even going so far as to tug Mycroft’s pyjama top out of the way and simply pressing their bellies together before being content enough to fall asleep.

Mycroft made a bit of a production out of getting his pillows placed just right, settling back and wriggling his shoulders into a comfortable position. Greg watched with an upraised eyebrow and a tiny smirk, letting out a sigh of relief as his lover turned his head and winked at him. Greg didn’t hesitate to slide closer, pressing his cheek into Mycroft’s chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. He was a little surprised to feel himself shivering slightly, knowing that it wasn’t because of any chill in the air.

His body stiffened as Mycroft took in a soft breath. “Gregory. Oh, my darling...”

“Just...” Greg shook his head, his voice catching in his throat. “Just - give me a second, yeah?”

Mycroft turned into him and wrapped himself around him, cupping the back of his head and settling his ear squarely over his heart. He held him close in absolute silence, willing the rhythm of his heart beating solid and strong to guide his Alpha back to him. Gregory gave out one final shudder and finally relaxed completely, his whole body going limp. Mycroft didn’t relinquish his hold until his captive pushed against him gently, still holding him close even as he settled back into the pillows. Gregory fussed with the covers unnecessarily, resolutely avoiding his gaze as he slid a little further down in the bed, once again pillowing his head on Mycroft’s chest.

Mycroft sighed quietly upon realising that even though his lover was willing to talk, it was clearly he that would have to lead the conversation. “Gregory, are you quite comfortable?” He smiled as the solid body tucked into his wriggled faintly, and the silver head nodded. “Good. Do you think there will be any consequences for your behaviour this afternoon?”

Greg lifted a hand and twiddled it vaguely from side to side. “Probably fairly negligible, all things considered. They won’t demote me due to mitigating circumstances, although I’ll definitely be removed from the case, as I’ve clearly been compromised. It’s pretty obvious that I wouldn’t be able to question anybody without going a bit beastly on them. I’ll call in to my superiors tomorrow and argue for Donovan to be left on, as they’ll probably give me a couple of days’ holiday at the expense of the taxpayers of this lovely borough anyway.”

Mycroft hummed. “It’s doubtful that it will take even that long for your team to bring the animal in. Especially since I was able to supply the information that you were attempting to convey in your somewhat altered state. Once I came to, that is.”

The gentle fingers that had been idly combing through his chest hair suddenly tightened into a fist, and Mycroft hissed out a pained exclamation. “Once you...what?” Gregory pushed himself up on his elbow and turned narrowed eyes on him. “Mycroft! Did - did you pass out? And I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice...” He groaned and fell back on the mattress with one arm flung over his eyes. “I’m going to be utterly useless as a mate to you, Mycroft. You deserve someone far better...”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Stop being so melodramatic. That’s my brother’s chosen milieu.” Greg turned a half-hearted glare on his lover only to have it turned back on him far more effectively. “Thankfully, both he and John were quite level-headed this afternoon.” Mycroft swallowed uneasily. “Yes, I fainted. Once I caught that scent, I immediately recognised the possible identity of the child’s attacker - where it sent you into a state of unreasoning anger, it made me rather ill instead. It affected the both of us in decidedly different ways, but I was in no danger. I had Sherlock and John to look after me.”

Greg turned back into him, offering a silent apology as he smoothed his palm over the tuft of hair that had nearly been torn out by the roots. He sighed heavily and nuzzled into Mycroft’s chest. “Maybe you should just get them to move in with you instead.”

“Don’t speak such utter falderal. Sherlock and I could barely live together when we were children. Someone would surely be grievously injured within a fortnight.” Mycroft smiled faintly as Gregory giggled into his chest. “You know that I would never willingly bind myself to an inferior mate. You are the one that I want - that I need.” He ran his fingers through Gregory’s hair. “Haven’t I proved that by now?”

“Oh, love. My sweet patient Omega. You have, yes. A thousand times, yes.” Greg took in a deep breath in preparation to make a declaration, blowing it out in a rush as Mycroft’s finger pressed down on his lips.

“In a moment, my dear. Although I find myself terribly intrigued by what you wish to say to me, I have one more enquiry about today’s events.”

Greg took hold of Mycroft’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Ask me, then.”

Mycroft hesitated momentarily, gathering his thoughts. “Why _did_ you react in that manner?  As distasteful as the scene was, I know for a fact that it was not the first time you had been exposed to such a horrendous violation of such an innocent soul. You managed to maintain your composure before - why not today?”

Gregory went still beside him. “Would you believe that it’s because of you?”

Mycroft harrumphed. “Not unless you explain adequately.”

“It’s...well... It’s an Alpha thing.” Greg pushed away and propped himself up next to Mycroft, staring up at the ceiling. “More specifically, it’s an _unbound_ Alpha thing. Surely it hasn’t escaped your notice that I’ve gotten more uneasy and restless the longer I’ve been around you.”

“I thought perhaps that was just your natural state.”

Greg shrugged. “I’ve had my spells, yeah, but never with such frequency, or intensity. I was starting to think that I’d cracked or something...” He sighed quietly. “So I did a little research. Turns out that it’s not actually advisable for Alphas and Omegas to cohabitate without being bound. It’s, um...unhealthy, apparently.”

Mycroft reached out to take his hand. “Gregory? Have I harmed you?”

“No, love. I’ve harmed myself, by being stupid and stubborn.”

“What - what are the symptoms? Unhealthy how, exactly? Is there a name for this affliction? Can it be reversed? How do I come into play?”

Once again, Greg kissed Mycroft’s knuckles. “Please calm yourself, love. I’m not so far gone, and yes, it can be fixed. The symptoms are somewhat invisible, as I’ve had to deal with them all my life. Aggression, restlessness, anger, the same old shit - only heightened, naturally. They call it ‘Feral Alpha Syndrome’, as if that isn’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Gregory, I still don’t understand how I...”

Greg interrupted him gently. “It’s similar to how I felt during your heat. Possessive, a little paranoid - unable to allow myself to sleep for fear that something might happen to you while I was unconscious. The longer I spend around an unbound Omega, the more paranoid I get, apparently.” Greg cast a sideways glance at his lover with a rueful twist to his lips. “Those runs that I’ve been taking in the dead of night weren’t really runs.”

Mycroft blinked at him, realisation dawning in his mind. “Patrols. You were patrolling the neighbourhood. Ensuring that there were no hidden dangers, no other Alphas lurking nearby, things of that nature.”

Greg grimaced. “Yeah, I have been. I wasn’t really aware of it at first, as I’ve always had a vague jittery feeling when I was around an Omega, in heat or not. But it’s been building, and I guess today was just a catalyst. I was already feeling overprotective, kind of on high alert, and then that little girl... Something just broke inside me, I guess. I don’t even really remember...”

“You apparently snapped at Donovan - nearly bit her.”

“Jesus.” Greg ran a hand through his hair, gripping it hard. “I need to... _Fuck_. How do you even apologise for something like that?”

“I’m fairly certain that she does not blame you, as she was the only one of your team that was standing between you and a pack of idiots contemplating mutiny.”

Greg smiled faintly. “Yeah, Sal’s got a good heart - she’s loyal to a fault, that one. Still doesn’t excuse my behaviour, though. Maybe some flowers...”

“Perhaps something a bit more practical?” Mycroft tilted his head in thought. “A living plant, rather than something that will die within a week and necessitate binning - might I suggest snapdragons?”

“Oh, but you are a funny one, Mr. Holmes...” Greg poked Mycroft’s belly and smirked at his outraged yelp, sobering quickly as his lover turned a calculating look on him.

“My presence, my pheromones have done this to you.”

“Um...yeah. More or less.” Greg quickly clasped Mycroft’s hand in both of his, holding it to his chest. “But it is _not_ your fault. I won’t tolerate you taking any of the blame for this.”

“How long have you known about this affliction?”

“Only a couple of days, really. I _was_ intending to talk to you about it this weekend. I didn’t want it weighing on your mind while you had more important things to tend to.”

“Gregory... You are a decidedly foolish man.”

Greg shrugged idly. “Yeah, well...”

“No. Never do this again. If something affects you, it affects the both of us. We will work it out together.” Mycroft tilted his head as Gregory nodded sheepishly. “Is there not a corresponding illness for an unbound Omega?”

Greg shook his head. “Not that I saw during my somewhat limited research. If there’s an Alpha around, an Omega generally just feels safe, bound or not. They know instinctively that if they’re ever in trouble, any Alpha that happens to be around will protect them. It might be a different story if there were a competing Omega around, but we both know that isn’t likely.”

“I certainly hope not. I might have had to take steps.” Mycroft cocked an imperious eyebrow as Gregory giggled. “And what is the cure, then?”

Greg pursed his lips as he played with Mycroft’s fingers. “Stop cohabitating, of course. Isolate oneself from the Omega’s pheromones. Or...”

Mycroft swallowed, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. “Or?”

Greg met Mycroft’s eyes, his heart melting at the look of unbridled desperation he saw there. “Or, the afflicted Alpha in question could bond with the Omega similarly in question.”

“Gregory?”

“I was thinking... Since it seems like I might have a couple of free days coming up... Perhaps I could borrow George and some of the other lads and have them help me clear out the rest of my old flat. Move in properly and all...”

Mycroft moved swiftly, settling his naked bum down in Gregory’s lap and wriggling against him delightfully. “Yes, my love. Oh, yes. All of my resources shall be at your disposal.”

“Best not take them _all_ \- it would cost a small fortune to feed them up afterward.” Greg smiled up at him, scraping his fingernails down his back gently. “How soon can you be ready? Is it even safe for you to go back into heat after only a couple of months?”

Mycroft shivered. “The suppressant can be stopped at any point that I wish - the physicians don’t recommend any longer than six months between heats, but I could go off it as frequently as four or six times a year, if I so choose. A regular cycle is every six weeks, anyway... It takes about a week for the suppressant to clear my system, and generally a week after that before I go into heat. I’ve never been exposed to an Alpha for so long before, though, so I’m honestly not sure how that might affect the onset.”

“Roughly a fortnight, then.” Mycroft nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with happiness. “I think I can hold on till then.” Greg brought him down for a heated kiss. “What say you skip that particular pill in the morning, hm?”

“Yes, my Alpha. Oh God... _Gregory_...”

Mycroft buried his nose in his Alpha’s neck and just breathed him in, the tears flowing freely as his body trembled. He was aware of every touch of Gregory’s fingers, running along his sides and flank, through his hair and clasping at the back of his neck. He made soothing noises as his hands wandered, and Mycroft gave himself over to the rather predictable reaction, grinding down as they both swelled and hardened against each other.

“Yes, my love, my sweet little Omega.” Greg squeezed at Mycroft’s arse-cheeks. “I want to taste you. C’mon, my dirty little beast. Back this into me and sit on my face.”

Mycroft shuddered. “Christ Almighty, but you’re incorrigible.”

“Oh, come on... I know you want to celebrate.” Greg canted his hips and rubbed up against him forcefully. “Would you prefer to do it soft and slow, ride me until my eyes roll out of my head? Or would you rather take me in your mouth as I do the same to you? We can consume each other... Feel me in your belly, weighing you down, tying me to you...” Mycroft sat up slightly, his eyes wide and wild. “A poor substitute for a bond, but somewhat reminiscent, yeah?”

Mycroft cupped his face in both hands. “Oh, my Alpha. But you truly are a marvel...” He ducked down for a deep, sloppy kiss, grinning against Gregory’s lips as he growled into his mouth. “A filthy reprobate, yes, but a marvel all the same.” He knocked their foreheads together gently. “However...”

Greg reached up to run his fingers through Mycroft’s hair. “Tell me, my sweet. Tell me what you want, and I will make it happen for you. I will never deny you anything that you need from me - not ever again.”

“My Alpha...” Mycroft hummed as Gregory’s fingers trailed over his shoulder, raising a delicious frisson of gooseflesh all down his back. “Like this. Face to face. I want to see you, to feel you tremble against me.” He dropped his gaze bashfully as Gregory’s eyes darkened. “I want to rub against you and feel you come on me.”

“There’s that deceptively innocent face that I so adore...” Greg gripped his chin and lifted his head. “And that gorgeous dirty mind that I love.” He moved quickly but surely, flipping Mycroft onto his back and settling in between his thighs. Mycroft gasped and writhed underneath him, his heart fluttering in his ribcage at the look of utter devotion in his Alpha’s eyes. “I love you so much, my Omega. So, _so_ much.”

“Oh, but Gregory, I know. I _know_ you do.”

Greg bent down for a kiss as his hand reached for the small bottle that had been left on the bedside table. “Can you ever forgive me? I’ve been so cruel...”

“Yes, yes. Just...” Mycroft’s eyes rolled back as a slick hand was insinuated between their bodies, as Gregory stroked both of their cocks with a steady touch. “God, yes...”

Greg grunted softly as he tossed the bottle aside, thrusting firmly into the cradle of his lover’s groin. Sealing their mouths together, he rolled them both to the side and hoisted Mycroft’s knee over his hip, sliding his thigh between his legs. Clamping his hand hard over one perfect arse-cheek, he held him fast and rocked their bodies together firmly.

Mycroft groaned into his mouth, pulling away only to wrap his arms tight around his torso, putting their cheeks together and blowing hot breath over his Alpha’s ear. They writhed against each other, grunting and straining, each striving for their own release and being encouraged by all of the small signs of desire in the other. The trembling in their limbs, the frailty in their voices as they whispered encouragement and need, it all built into an inexorable tide of pleasure washing through them and over them, a flash fire of heat generating in their nethers and spreading outward.

Greg broke first, shuddering out his release with a low cry, his fingers digging hard into Mycroft’s arse and leaving behind quite the distinctive mark. He pulled away only far enough to look at his lover’s face as Mycroft continued to move against him desperately, his mouth hanging slack and eyes squeezed shut tight.

“Mine. My Omega, my sweet bond-mate. Soon, my love. So soon, and you will be _mine_ and I will be _yours_ for the rest of our lives, held within each other forever.”

Mycroft sighed from deep within his gut, his whole body going limp as he came somewhat suddenly and surprisingly softly, his cock jumping and pulsing hot semen over Greg’s belly. His Alpha moaned as he buried his nose behind his ear, still rolling their groins against each other gently, revelling in the feel of the slick mess that they had created together.

“Gregory... My... My Alpha...” Mycroft pawed at his back with a flailing arm, his head rolling back weakly as Gregory released him and pushed himself up on his elbow. “Mm... Love you...”

Greg giggled faintly. “Good one, was it?”

“Mm...” Mycroft felt his mouth stretching out into a dopey grin, but he found that he simply could not and did not wish to contain it. “Mm- _hmm_...”

Greg ducked down for a perfunctory kiss before beginning the somewhat arduous process of disentangling their limbs and clambering off the bed. Mycroft flopped onto his back as soon as he was released, and he shivered gently as the come smeared all over him began to congeal. It was but a moment before Gregory came back with warm flannels to hand, and he allowed himself to drift as he luxuriated in his Alpha’s touch, all too aware of his deeply caring nature. Soon. Soon, yes, they would be bonded, they would be one. He had already waited for weeks upon weeks. What was one more fortnight?

He stoutly held on to consciousness for an agonising few minutes, waiting until his Gregory had turned out the bedroom light and had climbed back into bed with him, pulling him close with pleasure-soaked limbs, wrapping himself around him and holding on as if for dear life. He felt the gentle pressure of lips on his forehead, and then he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy happy New Year to all my lovelies and to anyone new who just happens along! 
> 
> Bit of a shortish chapter, but I already have most of the next one typed up, so hopefully in a couple of days...
> 
> Please read, please comment, keep the muse fed and happy!
> 
> *mwah*

Gregory emerged from Mycroft’s study with a bit of a grim air about him, but also with a certain sense of purpose. He settled down in a chair at the smallish kitchen table, smiling up at his lover as he put a cup of very black coffee down in front of him. Gregory took a small sip with a satisfied sigh, and then a longer draught with an expressive groan.

“Ta, love. You make the best coffee...”

Mycroft rolled his eyes slightly. “While I do adore your extraneous compliments, I would far prefer that you not actively fib, Gregory.”

“M’not! I swear there’s something extra - a special ingredient...” He snapped his fingers as Mycroft settled down next to him with his breakfast, his eyes twinkling impishly. “I’ve got it! Love. You sprinkle a little love in there and it just makes it that much heartier.” Greg waggled his eyebrows as Mycroft sputtered out a giggle, rolling his eyes so hard that he might just strain something. “See what I did there, huh? Huh?”

“Gregory Lestrade, you are naught but a child.”

Greg put on a pout, fighting to hold it as Mycroft reached out to ruffle his already sleep-rumpled hair with one hand, nibbling on his toast with the other. “You still love me, right?”

“Always.” Mycroft leant in for a tender kiss that grew and deepened almost unbearably. “Always and forever, my Alpha.” Gregory’s eyes fluttered as they pulled away from each other, Mycroft smoothing a hand down his tie and waistcoat in an attempt to pull himself back together to prepare for his day.

Greg slumped back with his cup of coffee and waited until his lover had composed himself sufficiently to cock a demanding eyebrow in his direction, silently finishing off his meagre repast. Greg sighed and nodded. “Told me to take the rest of the week, and agreed to let Donovan handle it. She apparently wasted no time in gathering samples from all of the immediate family members, and they’ve put a rush on running them through.” He wrapped both hands around his mug and stared down at it somewhat morosely. “They’re pretty sure it was the brother.”

“How old?”

Greg’s lip curled. “Fifteen. The girl was the youngest, obviously. Surprise baby, as they tell me.”

Mycroft reached out to stroke his arm, wincing as the muscles tensed under his touch. “Miss Donovan will see to it that he’s brought to justice.”

“Oh, I know that I can count on Sal, and I also know that if I was let anywhere near the little bastard that I’d wring his bloody head right off his scrawny neck, but still.” He tried to temper it, but he knew the expression that he turned on his lover was nothing but bleak rage, as Mycroft paled considerably. “I still feel like she needs me. Like they all let her down, and I’m the only one who can make it _right._ ”

“But it will be made right, my love. I assure you.”

Greg felt his eyes suddenly narrow. “I’ll have no interference from you, Mr. Holmes.”

Mycroft gasped in a reasonable facsimile of outrage. “How dare you - I would never!”

Greg smirked. “Oh, yes you would. Probably have before, and I was just too stupid to notice.” The smirk grew as Greg watched Mycroft squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “Let Sal handle this one on her own.”

Mycroft pouted. “I wasn’t going to interfere, not really. Just...perhaps see that the DNA analysis gets pushed to the front of the queue, that’s all.”

Greg took a careful swallow of his coffee and tilted his head. “Get that rush job in ahead of all the other rush jobs, eh?” Mycroft nodded hopefully as his lover pursed his lips. “You can call Donovan and _ask_ her if she would like you to do that for her.” He leant forward slightly and fixed Mycroft with a stern glare. “But I am telling you now that if you extend that hand to her, Miss Sally Donovan will not hesitate to reach out and take it every chance she gets. You’ll bloody well become her toady, I guarantee it.”

Mycroft blinked rapidly as Greg finished off his coffee, smacking his lips in satisfaction. “I...see...”

Greg shook his head with a rueful twist to his lips. “Mm, I don’t think you do. Women are crafty, love. I know you’ve got Anthea and that you trust her with your life, but I think you’re still a bit unaware of how they work for the most part. Even though you probably know and understand more about what drives this world than any other individual alive, you’re strangely isolated from it at the same time. You live in a world of men, Mycroft. Men who believe that they have a certain sense of what honour means, men with inflated self-importance and fragile little egos. Men who would willingly fail rather than swallow their pride and ask for help. See, a woman like Donovan, well, she will use _all_ of the resources at her disposal to get the job done.”

Mycroft nodded with a faraway look in his eyes. “I told you that you’re much cleverer than you give yourself credit for.” He smiled softly as he refocused his gaze. “You’re rather astute, Gregory. And I’m sure that Anthea would agree wholeheartedly with your analysis. She chides me for my outdated notions at least twice a day, if not more often.”

“I wonder what might happen if we got the two of them together.” Greg broke out into giggles at the look of sheer terror that flickered over Mycroft’s face, nearly covering the quiet beep of the security system announcing a guest.

Greg wiped at his face in an attempt to calm himself as George peeked cautiously around the kitchen door, taking in the domestic tableau with a tiny grin. “All right there, sirs?”

Greg sighed heavily. “George, how many times...” He waved him in and toward the coffee machine in a clear invitation to help himself.

George didn’t hesitate to fill a mug, leaning up against the worktop as he sipped at it. “Greg. Sorry.”

“Yeah, old habits and all. I get it.” Greg dithered momentarily as he reached out to play with the fingers of Mycroft’s left hand. His lover smiled at him encouragingly, and George clearly felt the rising tension, as he put his mug down and leant forward. “So, um. I was hoping that I could maybe get you and a couple of the other lads to - um.”

George tilted his head. “To?” He held himself perfectly still as he watched his boss and his lover staring at each other in a daze.

“To help me finish moving in properly and all.” They both jumped as Mycroft’s driver clapped his hands sharply and rubbed them together vigorously. Greg blinked at the eager look on George’s face and grinned. “Ah - well, I mean tomorrow would probably do, or even Friday.” He gestured down at his well-worn pyjamas. “As you can see, I’m taking a bit of an unintended holiday.” His eyes went a little distant as he started mumbling to himself. “Not that there’s really all that much - most of it would be going to the charity shops anyway...”

“Gregory?”

Greg hummed as he focused on his lover and then drifted away again. “Well, it’s not like I’ll be needing my bed any longer, or my sofa - although it _might_ fit up there once we move that other bed out of the way. Couple of bookshelves, maybe a desk... Hrm. Maybe I should paint it. Blue, I should think. Nice and calming... Oh, but that sofa’s an awful green, in’t it? God no, that’d be terrible. Maybe a new one, then?”

George glanced away from his employer’s face, his cool grey eyes flowing over with emotion as Greg blithely continued to spout home decorating ideas. Mycroft brought Gregory back to the present by bringing his hand up to his lips, pressing butterfly kisses to the broad knuckles.

Greg gasped faintly and smiled a little goofily as his eyes focused sharply on the man at his side. “Hullo, love.”

“I thought nesting was an Omega trait, my dear.”

Greg blushed heartily before tilting his head. “I think it’s more to do with having something to do, to focus on. I’m still...” He gave an exaggerated shiver, indicating his restlessness. He turned to George, who had picked up his coffee and was watching them with it clutched to his chest. “Tomorrow, I think.” Greg smiled as the driver nodded curtly. “Ta, mate. We’ll need a lorry, of course, but you can drive anything, I imagine.”

George smirked as Mycroft tutted. “Need to know, my dear.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ll take today for myself - get some things organised, decide what to get rid of and what to keep, that sort of thing. It’ll help clear my head a bit. And then tonight...” Mycroft swallowed audibly as his lover reached out to tap the third finger of his left hand. “We need to talk about whether you want it on public record, whether you want to get married properly.”

They both ignored the strangled exclamation of excitement from the general vicinity of the coffeemaker. Mycroft blinked as he tilted his head curiously. “Why wouldn’t I want people to know, my dear?”

“I know that you don’t want _me_ to be a secret, not that I think that I really could be, what with traipsing in and out of your house at all hours. But there is a potential security risk, with both of us being somewhat high-profile in our careers.” Greg clucked his tongue faintly as Mycroft frowned. “Don’t tell me that you hadn’t already thought about one of us being abducted to use against the other. I’ve already had my share of that nonsense from the fools that your brother likes to play against, ta very much. But then, perhaps that’s something that should be discussed between you and your brute squad...” He dropped a wink at George before sighing quietly. “And then there’s the Omega factor, of course.”

Mycroft went pink about the cheeks. “Whatever are you implying?”

“Just that it might affect your career in ways that you don’t anticipate, that’s all.” Greg took his fingertips in a gentle hold. “Conceal, don’t reveal, right? Now, maybe you’ve actively hidden who you are to some people that wouldn’t understand, and maybe there are others who do know but don’t care. You’ve succeeded and flourished thus far through whatever means you have had to in order to make it, and I will be so unbelievably proud to call you my mate.” He hesitated briefly. “But if you call me out as your mate, your partner, spouse - whatever, then everybody will know what you are. I’m a known Alpha, and when people see the two of us together, they will put it together. And as unfair as it is, some of the people that have trusted you implicitly for decades will suddenly feel nothing but contempt. This - what we have now, what we _will_ have in the future - it will be a liability to you, to your career.” Greg swallowed against the anxiety rising in his chest as he looked into a face that had gone absolutely bloodless and as still as a mask. He nuzzled into Mycroft’s cold hand, kissing the palm, rubbing his knuckles over the stubble on his face. “I cannot tell you what to do, my love - this is a decision that you have to make for yourself.”

“Gregory...” The barest whisper of breath came from Mycroft’s lips, his eyes filled with sorrow and loss.

“No, no no... That isn’t what I mean, my sweet. I _will_ bond with you - walking away simply isn’t an option anymore. But whether or not that bond will be announced, or celebrated publically, well, I’m leaving that up to you, and I will respect and abide by whatever decision you happen to make.”

Greg felt his breath coming a little easier as Mycroft nodded shakily, a bit of the colour returning to his face. “I understand, my love.” He pushed away from the table and stood, brushing himself down. “I will...think on it.”

“Thank you, Mycroft.” He looked up at him and took up his left hand again, tugging on his ring finger. “If you have any questions, just ask. I’m only a phone call away, and of course we can discuss it in further detail when you get home.” Greg smiled brightly. “Maybe I’ll even cook something for dinner, just like a proper house-husband!”

Mycroft cracked a tiny smile and bent down for a short but very sweet kiss. “You are under no obligations, my dear. Although of course anything you choose to do would be lovely.”

Without looking back, the Omega of the house strode out of the kitchen, leaving his driver to follow. George diverted in his path slightly, setting down a fresh cup of coffee in front of the Alpha of the house, squeezing Greg’s shoulder in silent support before following his employer out the front door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic fluff... I know that some of my lovelies like that kind of thing, so here you go. (Pervs! ;-p )
> 
> Please do let me know if I'm getting it right!
> 
> I adore you all... Kisses!

Mycroft returned home from a long and rather frustrating day at the office and walked into a house that smelled enticingly of roast chicken. He hooked his umbrella over the coat stand and slipped his overcoat off, simply standing there and letting it dangle from his hand as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had often thought of this house as his home, yes, but it had taken Gregory to truly make it _feel_ like one.

Shaking a little sense back into his head, Mycroft hung up his coat and went in search of his lover. His steps faltered on the staircase as the corridor came into view, as the dismantled bed had apparently been dragged out and was leaning up against the wall. The small bureau that had resided within had also been pulled out and placed against the opposite wall, leaving the pathway rather cluttered. Mycroft inhaled and caught the scent of paint, and he cautiously peeked around the doorway to what had once been his guest bedroom.

Gregory was clearly in the midst of transforming it into his personal space, and it seemed that he had been quite sincere about the blue. Mycroft blinked at the walls in quiet astonishment, his eyes skipping over the last little bit that Gregory was still working on. All of the lines were remarkably clean, and he had left the trim a pure white, which contrasted rather nicely with the medium tone that he had chosen, something masculine but not overwhelmingly butch.

Greg came up from his crouch smoothly, rolling the last bit out before picking up a brush and running it carefully down the opposite side of the doorway that Mycroft was standing at, cleaning up the lines. He smiled disarmingly as he wiped his hands on a rag, stepping back and spreading his arms as he rotated from side to side. “What do you think? Not too bad, if I do say so myself.”

He smirked rather unfairly as Mycroft’s eyes lingered on his torso rather than taking in the general state of the room. “Remarkable. You’ve done a very thorough job.” Greg tossed his rag on the drop cloth that had been spread out and brought his arms around to his front to study them critically for any splatters of paint. He looked up as Mycroft cleared his throat and glanced back out into the hallway. “Did - did you move all that yourself?”

Greg shrugged. “Yeah. Why?” He grinned again as he watched Mycroft’s Adam’s apple bob up and down, figuring out his interest pretty handily. None of the furniture in this house was anything but tremendously sturdy, and the bed’s divan had been a bit of a bitch to manoeuvre, but he had managed. And the bureau, though small, was solid oak, so it had proved as equal of a bastard to match. Greg was fairly sure that he would be a tad sore in the morning, but wrestling with and cursing at the inanimate objects had been strangely satisfying in his somewhat overwrought state.

Greg flexed as his lover turned back to him, more than a little gratified as he watched his grey eyes go dark. He stalked a bit closer and reached out to chuck Mycroft under the chin. “Why don’t you go put on something a little less severe and meet me in the kitchen when you’re done? Supper should be done soon, and I have a couple of spots that I’d like to touch up in here before I put this all away.” Mycroft’s lips parted as Greg moved closer still, running his thumb up his cheekbone. “Then we can tell each other all about our respective days, just like some old married couple.”

Mycroft shivered faintly, his eyes fluttering closed against his lover’s warm breath. He whimpered quietly as there was the lightest of kisses on his lips, nodding shakily. “Yes, my Alpha.” He turned without further fanfare, picking his way carefully around the detritus scattered throughout the corridor as he made his way into the bedroom. Mycroft took his time in disrobing and hanging up his suit, leaving the door open just enough to let Gregory know that he was welcome to join him if he so chose. In fact, he rather hoped that he would, but of course his Alpha had other tasks to tend to.

He took a bit of time in the bathroom after pulling a soft hunter green jumper over his head to ruffle at his hair, breaking it free from its rather severe work style. He may or may not have fiddled with the neckline, ensuring that a tidy tuft of chest hair was easily visible, and he may or may not have turned his backside to the mirror and inspected how well-fitted his slacks were before finally quitting the bedroom in favour of the kitchen.

Mycroft was gratified to see that his grooming efforts were clearly well appreciated, as Gregory’s gaze raked up and down his long form over the pan that he had just pulled from the oven. Mycroft licked his lips as the delicious aroma washed over him, as he looked at the perfectly browned carcass awaiting their attentions.

“Hungry, love?”

Mycroft put as much longing in his eyes and as much lust in his voice as he could muster. “Simply ravenous.”

Greg chuckled low as he put the bird on the carving board and began dishing out the veg. “Good to know my efforts won’t go to waste, then.” He ignored Mycroft’s little moue of disappointment and nodded him towards the bottle of wine that he had already opened and the two glasses sitting on the table. “Go on and sit yourself down and pour some of that out for us, would you?”

Mycroft nodded resignedly and did as he was told, watching over the rim of his glass as Gregory reduced the chicken to neat slivers of steaming meat. He tried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach, but in truth, he was anticipating the meal rather intensely. He had inadvertently forgotten his lunch, and the sandwich that he had consumed with his afternoon tea had been rather limp and decidedly unsatisfactory.

In their somewhat short time together, Gregory had only cooked a full meal for them a few times, but Mycroft had found each occasion surprisingly delightful. His lover’s fare was simple but hearty, primarily just meat and potatoes along with some other vegetable, a far cry from the dainty if multiple courses that Mycroft was used to in the various meals that he was forced to partake in due to his work. No pretentious delicacies for starters, no soup _and_ salad along with numerous loaves of bread, no. Just the essentials needed to feed body and soul.

Greg smiled as he watched Mycroft’s eyes go vaguely distant, and he plated up healthy portions on two plates before carrying them to the table. He felt a slow, warm wave of pride and love all mixed into one as his lover reached out for his plate, drawing it toward him eagerly. “Skipped lunch again, didn’t ya?”

Mycroft shrugged faintly as he speared a bit of delightfully mushy carrot along with a delicate bite of chicken. He placed a hand in front of his mouth as he chewed, trying to maintain some sense of propriety. “You can’t tell me you haven’t done the same on numerous occasions.” He watched with a fair amount of alarm as Gregory began to decimate his meal in quick order. “Including today, apparently.”

Greg laughed as he sipped at his wine, forcing himself to slow down a bit. “Yeah, I suppose so. There was so much to do and I just kept moving and I didn’t even realise until I started to put this together and I started eating more of the carrots than I was chopping!” He grinned toothily as Mycroft shook his head and tutted faintly. “Maybe we’re more alike than either of us thought in the beginning.”

Mycroft smiled fondly as he nibbled on a piece of perfectly roasted potato. “Perhaps that’s why we’re simply too perfect for each other.” He watched as his Alpha cleaned his plate and sat back with a low sigh, casting a glance over his shoulder at what had been left behind. While Gregory undoubtedly deserved seconds and would most likely work off any additional calories during his move on the morrow, Mycroft himself was hoping for a bit of carnal attention tonight, and that would definitely be precluded by an overly-full lover. He broke into Gregory’s gluttonous thoughts with a small hum, sipping at his wine as warm brown eyes caught his. “So what did you do with yourself all day, my love?”

Greg poured himself a little more wine, settling in. “Bit of breakfast, quick shower, and then I went over to mine. Separated out the stuff I’m keeping, stuff that’s going to charity and binned the rest.”

“You do know that I’m not expecting you to downsize on my account, correct?” Mycroft blushed faintly as Gregory tilted his head. “I mean - if there were things you wanted to keep but felt that I would not appreciate in my home. Don’t...please don’t. I would... _we_ could make room if necessary.”

“Such a sweet thing you are. No, love, I’m not giving away any of my prized possessions, I promise you. It’s mostly stuff like dishes and linens. Towels. Why would I bring in my nasty old scratchy towels when yours are so fluffy and soft?” Greg grinned impishly as he reached out and snagged a morsel from Mycroft’s plate, nearly getting a fork in the hand for his trouble. “And even though I know that old sheets will always be appreciated in this house...” The grin widened as Mycroft’s face went utterly red. “Unfortunately, my old bed is smaller than yours, so even the sheets wouldn’t serve an adequate purpose, I’m afraid.”

“I merely wanted to assure you...”

“Mycroft, my love... I know.” Greg sat forward and fixed his gaze on Mycroft’s, reaching below the table to caress his knee. “I know you want me here. Me and my crap. You _have_ made room for me, and that means more to me than I can possibly say.” He slid his hand up a bit and smirked slightly as his lover bit his bottom lip. “I know what kind of man you were before I crashed into your life. Quiet and solitary, set in your ways. Rather like me, in fact. You’ve been remarkably patient with me throughout this whole process, far more patient than I expected.”

Mycroft blinked at him with a measure of confusion clouding his thoughts. “Gregory, you are my chosen mate. Honestly, there was no patience necessary. There will be no period of adjustment required. We _fit_ , my love. We _work_ together - two halves of the same whole. You will simply be settling into the space that was always waiting for you here. In my home, and in my heart.” He blithely took another bite of chicken as Gregory seemed to process this, watching his mouth as he chewed. “I love your cooking.”

Greg sat back with a little huff. “Really?” He frowned slightly as Mycroft nodded happily. “I would have thought it too basic, too simple.”

“But that’s why it’s perfect, Gregory. What could possibly be better than a juicy roasted chicken? I can hardly wait until winter. I imagine that you do up a stew for the cold days, yes?”

“Um, yeah, actually. Yeah, I do.” He felt his eyebrows pulling in as Mycroft’s face lit up, and he found himself resolving to make up that stew at the first sign of frost. “You are a constant wonderful surprise, my love.”

“As are you, my Alpha. So what else did you do today?”

“Um. Well, cleaned up the flat a bit, nothing too detailed, of course. Hit up a couple of furniture stores to see about a new sofa, some bookshelves and a desk. The stuff I’ve got is all flat-pack, too wobbly. I wanted something more, well - grown-up, I guess.” Greg scratched at the back of his head as Mycroft finished off his plate with a discreet belch and reached for his wine. “Ordered a couple of things that should be coming in a day or two.”

“Excellent! I’m sure that George would be more than happy to help you assemble anything that may not already be in one piece.”

Greg smiled slowly. “George, huh?”

Mycroft flapped a hand, idly wondering about the alcohol content in the wine. His face was warm and his limbs a bit loose, a good indication that he’d already had quite enough. He took another sip. “Naturally. I am a complete and utter fool when it comes to things of that nature. Wouldn’t even be able to hand you the correct tool, no doubt.”

Greg nodded as he started to recognise the hopeful light slowly dawning in Mycroft’s eyes - the ‘oh what luck, I’ve found myself a live-in handyman’ look. “Uh-huh. And just what is it that needs doing, love?”

Mycroft tried to wave it off with a casual shrug. “Oh, not much, really.” He sighed quietly. “I mean, there is that one stair that’s always creaking, and the dripping faucet in the guest bathroom... I’ve been thinking about switching out those drapes in the sitting room for ages, and you know that the lighting in the garage is a bit uncertain.”

Greg's chest filled with a diffuse warmth as he found himself thinking about being put to a definitive purpose, about being made a partner of the household. “Hm. That’s probably the wiring, and I’m no electrician. But I do know enough to call one in and keep an eye on him to make sure he’s competent enough to not burn the place down around our ears. How’s that? I was thinking of setting up that weight machine you got me in the garage anyway. Can’t work out without light, can I?” Mycroft twiddled his fingers vaguely as he knocked back the rest of his wine and went to pour more, frowning slightly as the bottle came up empty. Greg slid his own half-full glass away from his lover’s considerable reach, as he was eyeing it with a bit of avarice. “As for drapes, I’ll leave that bit of home decorating to you, although I’d be more than happy to hang them for you.”

“We could...” Mycroft cleared his throat as he fiddled with his empty wine glass. “We could choose them together.”

“Yes. Yes, let’s.” Greg stood and bent over to kiss the top of Mycroft’s head as he gathered dirty plates and cutlery. “After we tidy. Come on.” He swiped the rest of his wine from under Mycroft’s nose with a saucy wink as he carried his burdens to the sink, turning around to catch his lover stealing another piece of chicken from the carving board, even though it had gone lukewarm.

Greg passed over his wine after a healthy swig, watching with a dopey smile as Mycroft let out a breathy, ‘Ooh...’ and finished off the last swallow. He growled faintly and pulled him in by his waist to kiss him, deftly licking his way into his lover’s mouth and humming low as he moaned deep in his throat and moulded his body into his.

“Gregory...”

“Yes, love. Later.” Greg nodded toward the stripped carcass as he started washing dishes, watching with a keen eye as Mycroft rummaged in the cupboard for storage containers. He smiled as one or two more tidbits went into his Omega’s mouth rather than being put away, shaking his head as he stepped up next to him and began drying the items already set aside on the drain board and putting them away as well. He hadn’t really planned anything for pudding, but he was fairly certain that there was still some ice cream left...

Mycroft leant his head into his Alpha’s shoulder as he watched him washing the last pot, waiting for him to place the rinsed item into the towel that he was holding out for it. He still marvelled over how easy it was for them to fall into a certain pattern of behaviour when they were together, the way they went about their daily household tasks without any strife or resentment. He grinned as the damp towel was whisked from his hand, as Gregory strode over to the table to wipe it down as he put away the last dish. Mycroft turned just in time to see the towel flying at his face, and he snatched it out of the air and shook it out with a small snort of laughter, hanging it over the sink to dry. Gregory grinned and bowed at the waist, extending a hand to him and tugging him across the hall to the sitting room, where they settled down onto the sofa with Mycroft’s laptop.

He snuggled into the warmth of Gregory’s side as he began to scroll through various home improvement and decorating sites, bookmarking everything that earned an interested grunt from either of them. Mycroft sighed as his Alpha’s arm draped itself over his shoulders, as Gregory slid a little further down into the cushions. He began to cast an eye over the room they were currently residing in, suddenly finding the somewhat austere furnishings slightly out of place. Mycroft had never put much stock in anything other than stark white walls and clean, modern lines, but now that his life had become that much cosier, perhaps his surroundings should be as well.

He turned to ask his impending bond-mate what he thought and found Gregory fast asleep, his face slack and blessedly free of worries. With just the tiniest pang of disappointment, Mycroft quietly shut his laptop and wriggled his way out from under his arm, bending over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He grinned as Gregory snorted himself into some semblance of wakefulness, reaching out to pull him to his feet. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Let’s get you into a proper bed.”

Greg blinked hazily as he stumbled to his feet. “No, no... I’m the Prince. You’re the Beauty.”

Blushing heartily, Mycroft manoeuvred his lover’s body down the perilous corridor and into the bedroom, efficiently stripping him down before watching him simply fall into the bed and crawl up toward the pillows. A few minutes later he joined him, humming contentedly as he was wrapped in warmth and comfort and the smell of his Alpha.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More domestic nonsense, and George being put on elevated alert... 
> 
> So. My brain's a little numb. RIP Bowie. 
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies. I would adore feedback. A bit of angst to follow this, I'm afraid...

The next morning, Mycroft awoke to find himself alone in bed. He knew that Gregory had not gone far, however, as there was the devilishly enticing smell of bacon in the air. He sighed heavily and rolled over, lifting up his pyjama top and caressing his soft belly a little ruefully. It hadn’t grown all _that_ much since his Alpha had taken up residence, but he had a distinct feeling that more than a few of his trousers might have to be let out if this behaviour were to continue. Gregory had certainly taken to the concept of ensuring that his Omega was properly fed, and Mycroft couldn’t say that he was entirely opposed to the notion. Perhaps there was something to this house-husband nonsense after all...

He cursed slightly as he looked at the clock, realising that the wine that he had consumed the night before had ensured a bit of an extended lie-in. He took the quickest of showers and dressed in record time, although still as meticulously as ever, naturally. Mycroft sent up a fervent wish that his hallway would be free of obstructions by this afternoon as a trouser leg got caught on something briefly, nearly sending him sprawling. He paused at the foot of the stairs to control his careening heartbeat and compose his features into something a little less fraught before turning into the kitchen.

Gregory was standing at the stove, humming quietly to himself as he plated up a couple of fried eggs and some bacon. He gave Mycroft a saucy wink as he retrieved the tea that had already been set aside for him, nodding him toward the table. He dropped a kiss to the top of Mycroft’s head as he set his plate in front of him. “Morning, love.”

Mycroft nibbled on a perfect piece of bacon and smiled shyly. “Good morning, Gregory.”

Greg winced as he sipped at his coffee. “Sorry for passing out on you last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I know that you were hoping for... And well, I guess I just wore myself out, and then the wine...”

Mycroft shook his head and sniffed imperiously. “I was only hoping for what I received - a lovely evening by your side.”

“You are a dreadful liar. What with the artfully mussed hair and those slacks that hug your beautiful bum just right... I know exactly what you wanted, my little tart.” Greg licked his lips as Mycroft’s eyes went wide and dark. He glanced aside at the clock on the kitchen stove. “And if George weren’t due in something like two minutes, I’d make sure to give you just what you were looking for.” Mycroft jumped as an impertinent foot deftly slid up his leg and in between his thighs. “Guess we’ll just have to wait until tonight, hm?”

“Gregory, you are a horrid creature.” Mycroft spread his legs and pushed forward slightly with a delightful shudder. “Sod George. I can lock him out and he can bloody well wait.”

Greg chuckled a bit evilly as a soft beep echoed through the foyer. “Too late, love.” He quirked one eyebrow and watched with a bit of malicious glee as Mycroft’s hands clenched into frustrated fists.

George breezed into the room, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air as he headed straight for the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. “Good morning, Mr. Holmes.” He tipped a wink at his employer’s partner. “Greg.”

Mycroft turned to glare over his shoulder, but George was completely preoccupied with his coffee, his face squinching up slightly against the steam as he took a sip. There was a significant pause and a discreet cough before he set his mug down quite deliberately.

Greg laughed even as he gave his foot a little twist. “See? Told ya your coffee was the best, love.”

Mycroft growled incoherently and pushed away from the table and also away from a set of wickedly wriggly toes before standing with a snap. He bent slightly at the waist in an attempt to disguise a certain protrusion, narrowing his eyes at his lover’s innocent demeanour. “I must be off. I do hope your day is a productive one, my dear.” Mycroft’s lips quirked against his will as Gregory fluttered his eyelashes at him beguilingly. “I also hope that you take care not to overexert yourself today.”

Greg bared his teeth and spoke in an undertone. “Yeah, I’ll just bet you do.” His grin sharpened as Mycroft’s face went quite red and he stomped off to the front door.

George shook his head faintly as Greg turned the grin on him, fighting back on an unseemly set of giggles as he gave his employer a moment to gather himself. “I’ll be back in a few with that lorry and a couple of sturdy backs to help with your things.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the coffee mug that he had abandoned. “Though I think that if you left that long enough, it would most likely grow limbs and climb out to help too.” Greg winked and took a hefty swallow out of his own mug before laughing George out of the house.

His employer met him on the front steps with an inscrutable look in his eyes, something wary and yet hopeful all at the same time. George resisted the urge to pat him on the back as he went to hold the car door open for him, tilting his head deferentially as Mycroft slid into the backseat and allowed him to close the door behind him. They drove in silence for the most part, listening to the morning news on the radio and snorting derisively in unison at each of the journalistic gaffes.

George pulled into the basement carpark, close to the lifts that would deliver his employer to his destination for the day, and stepped out to once again hold the door. Mycroft emerged and hooked his umbrella over his elbow as he looked him over carefully. He gestured vaguely at the all-but-invisible bulges under his arms, his eyes pinched slightly with worry. “You will of course stash those away in the safe in the boot, yes?”

“Oh, indeed sir. Can hardly be seen doing manual labour with a couple of weapons strapped to my chest.”

Mycroft’s eyes twinkled briefly. “No. I imagine it would cause quite the stir.” His lips pursed in thought, and George felt a brief pang of affection toward the man that he knew better than to display. “But if...”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him, sir. Not while I’m around.” George lifted his left leg and wiggled it slightly, and grinned as he saw Mycroft take in a relieved breath, realising that even though his main weapons might be stowed, he would hardly be without his own resources if necessary. The .22 strapped securely in his ankle holster may or may not have been strictly approved by the agency, but Mycroft knew that it had come in handy on many occasions, as he had seen it in action on numerous occasions himself.

“Yes. I...” George blinked rapidly as his employer hesitantly reached out a hand and patted him on the arm perfunctorily. “Thank you, George.”

“You are more than welcome, sir.” He smiled as encouragingly as he could as Mycroft stepped away from the car. “You’re both my responsibility now, you know.”    

Mycroft paused and looked over his shoulder, something like a genuine smile gracing his face. “I do. I know you’ll see him safe.” He continued on to the lifts without looking back, his head high and shoulders straight.

George nodded curtly and grunted manfully as he turned away, wiping discreetly at his eyes. He took his mobile from his pocket and texted the two blokes that he had recruited to help on this unsanctioned and yet approved mission, Matthew and Joshua. Opening the boot, he first removed his suit jacket and then carefully slipped his weapons harness off before tucking it away in the heavy safe hidden away with the spare tyre. Then he calmly stripped down to his undergarments right there in the garage, stepping into a well-worn pair of workman’s coveralls.

He sat back on the car’s bumper to don a pair of reliable work boots, resettling the ankle holster and stomping a couple of times to ensure that it didn’t wiggle about. His two companions joined him shortly thereafter, both of them having already switched out their suits in the operatives’ changing room. They watched with patient amusement as George got himself settled, carefully laying out his suit in the boot of Mycroft’s car.

The garage was stocked with any number of vehicles for quick and ready use, the keys simply hanging from the ignitions, but everybody knew that this one was hands-off. Still, George made sure to lock it securely and tucked the key away in his breast pocket, zipping it shut. He waved the two lads over to a decently sized lorry, giving it a quick inspection and making sure that there were moving crates and blankets and dollies in the back before hopping up into the driver’s seat.

Matthew grinned as he settled into the middle seat, clearly happy to be doing something other than his usual daily routine. Joshua, a somewhat quiet bloke, looked at the both of them with narrowed eyes, his mouth set in a thin line. They were silent as they made the journey back to Mycroft’s townhouse, and Greg met them on the front step, leading them inside.

He tipped a wink in George’s direction. “I made another pot of coffee, if you’d like a little extra energy to start the day...”

George raised his eyebrows and shook his head definitively. “Had quite enough of that earlier, ta very much.” He made a face at his two companions, and Matthew nodded solemnly as Joshua frowned. The smaller man stalked over to the coffee machine and sniffed delicately at the aroma before breaking out into a genuine grin. He quickly poured himself a cup and took a long draught, sighing gustily.

Greg giggled at the looks on George and Matthew’s faces as he tipped a wink to the newcomer, resisting the urge to ruffle at the much younger man’s dark hair. “Met, yeah?”

Joshua nodded, taking another swig. “Yes, sir. I was Constable for a couple of years before I was recruited by this lot. Haven’t been with the organisation for very long.” He held up his mug in a brief salute before topping it off. “Nothing like a copper’s brew to get a good start on the day.”

George cleared his throat. “It’ll put hair on your chest, that’s for sure.”

He shrugged at Greg’s exasperated sigh and cast a dubious glance at Matthew as he cautiously went to investigate, pouring out a splash into another mug. The blond’s cheeks went pink as everybody gathered watched intently, and he squared his shoulders as he knocked it back like a shot of liquor. He deliberated briefly before nodding curtly, pouring out another measure.

Greg threw his arms up in victory as George shook his head. “And another recruit for the ‘coffee so strong it can walk on its own’ team!” He whooped quietly and turned back to his new team-mates, nodding at Matthew’s shy grin. “I remember you from that first day - Matthew, right?” The blond nodded as Greg turned his attention to the one he hadn’t seen before, simply raising his eyebrows.

“Joshua, sir.”

“The name’s Greg, lad. You got it?” He smiled encouragingly and aimed it at everyone in the room as they nodded. “Alright.” Greg rubbed his hands briskly. “So here’s what needs doing.” 

George folded his arms over his chest and listened to the mission parameters along with his colleagues, watching Greg with an experienced eye. He was a man that was often in good cheer, but it seemed more jittery than usual, more forced. His general posture was somehow stiffer, his stance wider and shoulders broader, like he was puffing himself up, however subconsciously.

Something was clearly off, but although they were well-familiar with each other, they weren’t exactly chummy - not just yet. George resolved simply to keep an eye out, and if an opportunity came up to speak about it, then he’d take it. 

Greg turned to him as his lecture came to a close, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took him in. George smiled as serenely as he was able before stepping back out into the foyer and then up the stairs, looking down at the wreckage in the hallway as there was a multitude of footsteps behind him.

He nodded at Matthew’s low whistle. “That must be driving the boss nuts...”

Greg chuckled quietly as he grabbed hold of one end of the divan. “Which is why you lads are here. And so appropriately attired, too.” He grunted as he shoved. “C’mon. Quicker this is done, the quicker you lot get pizza.”

Everybody pitched in with gusto, getting the extraneous pieces of furniture tucked away in the back of the lorry in short order. Greg made sure that the house was locked up tight before squeezing into the cab and giving directions to George. “There’s a charity shop on the way to mine, we might as well get rid of this stuff first.” He grinned somewhat wearily. “Make room for more.”

George got the lorry running and pulled out carefully. “Like you said, though - quicker it’s done, the quicker you and the boss can settle in together.”

Greg laughed quietly. “He wants to pick out new drapes together, if you can believe it. Drapes!”

Mycroft’s three employees sat in stunned silence for a moment as Greg laughed at them, until George reached over to turn on the radio. The somewhat awkward tension in the air slowly melted away as music filled the cab, as Matthew began to sing along to a classic Beatles tune in a rather lovely tenor. Soon enough they were all belting out ‘Yellow Submarine’ as they bounced down the road in the sadly squeaky lorry.

Greg pointed out the back entrance to the charity shop and George backed up to the small loading dock, switching off the ignition as everyone piled out. Greg took a moment to stretch as Matthew and Joshua went round to help the shop clerks unload their cargo. He cast a weather eye around his surroundings and suppressed a small shiver of outrage.

“George.” Greg called him over in a curt tone and immediately gestured at a man across the alleyway, who had apparently been taking out some rubbish when the bag had unfortunately given out on him. He was taking his time in getting it all swept up, muttering curses under his breath all the while. Greg cleared his throat and turned to the left, looking pointedly at a small café and the waitress that was serving the patrons seated outside. She paused in wiping down a table and shaded her eyes as she looked up into the sky briefly. A little way down the pavement, there was a middle-aged man with a service dog, waiting for a bus with the seeming patience of a saint.

George turned to Greg with a politely inquisitive expression, but froze at the look in his companion’s eyes. They were shrewd and calculating, not exactly angry but not at all pleased either. “They’re yours, aren’t they?”

“I’m sure I don’t know...”

“Don’t bullshit me, George. Not today.” Greg looked at him askance. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” He sighed heavily, as it was quite clear from the look on George’s face that Mycroft had not spoken to his driver about his current situation. Greg shook his head, both cursing and praising his mate’s innate talent for secrecy. “Look. I know you know that something’s not right - I saw the way you were studying me earlier.”

George took a breath and resisted putting a hand on Greg’s shoulder, feeling instinctively that it would not be appreciated. “Tell me, then. You know that I’m here for you, right?”

“I’ve become your job, that it?”

“Well, yes.” George shrugged as Greg’s eyes narrowed. “And no. I’ve been at Mr. Holmes’ side for a very long time. We may not go out together on a Friday night, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t friends after a fashion. I know you and I aren’t there yet, but we’ll be spending a lot of time together too. That’s just the way of things. And you and I, well, it’s easier for blokes like us to talk, isn’t it? So if something is bothering you, I would hope that I’m one person that you can come to. Especially in terms of your safety, because yes, that's not only my responsibility now, but also my privilege.” George paused as Greg looked him over carefully. “Mr. Holmes tends to hold a lot of his cards close to his chest - even when he knows that things aren’t necessarily safe. That tends to put me in very awkward positions from time to time. Now, you don’t have to tell me a damn thing. I’m gonna do my job as best I can anyway. But if you have some information to share, well, then maybe that will make my job a bit easier, and that’s just better for everyone, don’t you think?” 

Greg huffed, but one corner of his mouth turned up into a wry smile. “Alright then, George. I am not currently in my right mind.”

“Feral Alpha Syndrome?” George pursed his lips and shrugged as Greg’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “After Tuesday afternoon, I did a little research. I’m not without my resources.” He softened his gaze as Greg’s eyes were inexorably drawn to the activity across the alleyway again. “How bad?”

“Bad enough. I don’t know, really - never felt anything like it before." Greg gestured helplessly. "There’s this thunderstorm in my head, and ants under my skin and I feel like something bad’s gonna happen and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I waited too long. Too fucking long.”

“Jesus.”

Greg snorted derisively. “Yeah.”

“Why are you doing all this now, then?”

“I have to! I have to do _something_ , George. I can’t isolate myself, I have to keep moving, keep those damn ants from crawling up into my brain! And I gotta tell ya, man, having all those goddamn eyes on me is _not_ helping.”

George blanched slightly as Greg glared, his lips pulled back from his teeth. “They’re not...”

Greg growled faintly. “Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean somebody’s not watching. I can feel it - I’m not a stupid man, nor am I as oblivious as I seem. I always know when they’re there, and most days it’s really not that big a deal. Today it is.” He visibly shook himself and took in a few deep breaths. “Don’t even know why you think they’re necessary. I’ve got three extremely well-trained men surrounding me already, and I know that each one of you has your own little tricks hidden up your sleeves. Or up your trouser legs, as it were.” George suppressed his snort of laughter, the tiny .22 strapped to his ankle suddenly feeling ten pounds heavier. He watched the muscles in Greg’s forearms flex as he put his hands on his hips, rolling his head on his neck in agitation. “I can _feel_ them, George. They’re in my head, and it’s making me twitchy. Twitchy is not good. Call them the fuck off, and let’s get back to work.”

George repressed the urge to salute as Greg growled and stomped off. He looked back and saw his two compatriots lingering by the cab, clearly anxious to get back to it. With a quiet sigh, he pulled out his mobile and called in to the dispatcher. “Hey. Yeah. Yeah, that extra detail I had you set up? Pull ‘em all back in. No, _all_ of them. I still got Matt and Josh. Yeah. Ta.”

He was tucking his mobile away as he turned back, and caught Greg watching him with a distinct air of relief about him. He was still held tense, but his eyes weren’t quite as haunted and there was the vaguest hint of his usual cheery grin on one side of his mouth. George sighed again as he went round to the driver’s side of the lorry and hauled himself up. This was clearly going to be a much longer day than he had originally anticipated...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More nesting, my god. And a wee bit more angst, although the heavier stuff is yet to come. Maybe in chapter 12, maybe in 13, not sure just yet...
> 
> As always, it is because of you lovelies that my muse lives. Please do comment and help her dance in my head.
> 
> Kisses, all...

Although it was indeed a long day, it was not quite as challenging as George had feared it might be. Greg was an Alpha, after all, very familiar with giving orders, and his colleagues were used to taking them, so there was very little friction between the three men. George began to think that he was actually grateful for the opportunity to observe his employer’s partner in closer quarters than he’d been privy to thus far. He found himself responding to Greg’s nonverbal cues, often anticipating his needs and reacting accordingly.

This was something that Greg clearly appreciated, as the stiffness in his shoulders and neck began to loosen up a bit. He did still have to take a moment to curse up a blue streak and kick at the wall when the bedframe resisted being dismantled, but it wasn’t like any one of them hadn’t let a curse or two drop at some point during the day. Matthew had an unfortunate encounter with a kitchen cupboard that had been left ajar, leaving a lovely bruise on his forehead and lingering electricity in the air after his tongue had let fly. Joshua had barely managed to avoid getting knocked silly by a rather heavy tome that had been inadvertently hidden away on the top of a bookshelf that he was shifting, and his shout of surprise had everyone running to verify that he hadn’t actually been killed. George had done very well for himself up until they were stacking everything up in the lorry, somehow managing to smash his thumb in between two of the heavier crates that had been loaded down with books. Rather than cursing, he had done an animated little jig that had apparently been extremely amusing to the rest of the company. Thankfully, he had managed to calm himself down before Greg had been able to produce his mobile in order to practise his somewhat dubious videography skills.

What with having to pack all of Greg’s possessions up, and the additional run to the charity shop, they didn’t get back to the townhouse until late afternoon. There was a brief discussion of whether or not to order the pizza before they hauled the few remaining crates inside, but since they all knew that if they took a moment to rest that starting it all up again would be that much harder, they just pushed through it. They stacked the crates in neat rows in the corridor outside Greg’s new study and leant up against the opposite wall, catching breath and wiping at their brows.

Greg huffed quietly as he nodded down at the unassembled weight machine still in its box in the middle of the room. “Was hoping to get that hauled down to the garage and maybe get a start on setting it up, but...” He grinned wearily as he looked around at them all. “Fuck it.”

George laughed quietly. “Tomorrow. I can bring in some fresh blood.” He hooked his somewhat swollen thumb at his colleagues with a sardonic roll of his eyes. “These two will clearly be useless later.”

Joshua rolled his eyes in return as Matthew protested feebly. “I’ll be fine in the morning!” He cast a significant glance at Greg and cleared his throat. “After a bit of dinner, of course.”

George stiffened slightly as Greg turned with a frown on his face, but it cleared with a saucy little wink. “Yeah. Right you are. It’s the least I can do for all your help today.” He gestured them toward the stairs and led the way into the kitchen. “Whaddya lads want on yours, then?”

George shrugged as he glanced at his watch. “I’m fine with whatever. Gotta run - should clean up before picking up Mr. Holmes and all.”

“Eh.” Greg flapped his hand. “His Majesty won’t faint at the sight of a sweaty face. You’re fine.”

George took the bottle of water he was offered with a grateful smile. “Nevertheless... I’ll be back in a bit.” He tutted quietly at his two colleagues. “You two behave.”

Joshua leveled an outrageous look on him. “We aren’t _children_ , George.” He turned back rapidly as he heard the word ‘mushrooms’ from behind him. “No! Gross! I won’t tolerate fungus on anything that goes in my mouth!”

George exchanged an amused glance with Greg as he left them squabbling quietly and drove the empty lorry back to HQ. He had a few minutes before he was expected, so he gathered up his suit and headed into the operatives’ barracks to take a very brief but much-needed shower. He was a trifle disconcerted to find Mr. Holmes waiting for him when he got back to the car, leaning casually against the boot with his umbrella tapping at his shoes.

Mycroft smiled faintly as George compulsively checked his watch and self-consciously tugged at his suit jacket. “Don’t fret yourself, George. Trust me, I very much appreciate you taking the time to make yourself a bit more presentable after what I imagine was a rather mucky day.”

George chuckled as he unlocked the car and held the back door open. “Well, yes sir, it was, but not all that bad. Matthew and Joshua were of great help.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” Mycroft cleared his throat meaningfully as he met his driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “And Gregory?”

George paused, clearly hearing the underlying interrogatory note underneath his employer’s seemingly innocent query. “Well enough, but...”

“Speak honestly, George. Please.”

“I’d say he’s entering dangerous territory, sir. I would advise awareness and - well, caution.”

Mycroft hummed thoughtfully. “I was told that you retracted the additional security. Was that at Gregory’s request?”

George winced. “More like an order, actually. They were making him ‘twitchy’, he said. And under the circumstances...”

“No doubt it was for the best.” Mycroft sighed heavily as he ran a hand over his brow. “Perhaps it’s just his edginess rubbing off on me, but ever since that conversation yesterday morning I find myself in a bit of a quandary.”

“About the additional risk that you might both be exposed to if you were to reveal your relationship?” George smiled faintly as his employer blinked and nodded slowly. “Well, I can’t answer for the potential risk to your career, of course. As Mr. Lestrade mentioned, that will have to be your decision. But as for the other, well...” He pulled into Mr. Holmes’ drive and looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard. “As long as I’m around, nobody touches him. Nobody. I promise you, sir.”

George exited the car and gave his employer a moment to gather his wits before holding his door open and waiting patiently. Mycroft cleared his throat and looked him over carefully as he stood. “Thank you, George. I honestly don’t know what I’ve done to inspire such fierce loyalty.”

George grinned broadly. “Maybe it’s just that I’m an extraordinary individual, Mr. Holmes.”

Mycroft snickered as he twirled his umbrella, taking the lead up the front stairs. “Of that I have no doubt, my good man.” He paused before opening the door. “And I am exceedingly grateful that I managed to secure you in my employ before anyone else got the chance.”

George dared a little wink, which inspired a rosy blush. They both startled slightly as there was the sound of whooping from within, and cautiously entered, going straight to the sitting room. There were soiled paper plates scattered over Mycroft’s coffee table, as well as a number of empty beer bottles, all carefully cushioned by some manner of coaster, thankfully. There was a sports match of some sort playing on the television, seemingly the cause of the boisterous ruckus.

Mycroft rocked back on his heels as there was another blast of noise, and the man at his side immediately turned and headed back into the kitchen, where they had thankfully left the remainders of the greasy pizza. Mycroft followed him after discarding his outerwear, extremely aware of the fact that Gregory had quit the sitting room and was lurking not far behind. He surveyed the options, or at least the meagre remainders of three pizzas, and chose a slice that seemed to be mostly vegetables. Sliding it delicately onto a paper plate, Mycroft watched with raised eyebrows as George calmly stacked four slices up and balanced them precariously in one hand while he rummaged in the fridge for a soda.

Tipping a wink, he retreated to the sitting room just in time for somebody to score, although Mycroft couldn’t quite tell if the resulting bellow was one of triumph or outrage. He shook his head and suppressed a tiny shiver as Gregory stepped close, the heat of his body radiating over his back.

“Hello, love.”

Mycroft half-turned to accept a lager-scented, somewhat bristly kiss on the cheek. “Good evening, Gregory. I trust your day was a productive one?”

“Oh yeah! You wanna see?”

“I’m actually a trifle hungry...”

Greg tugged the plate out of his hand and gestured toward the stairs with it. “We’ll bring it with. C’mon.”

Mycroft couldn’t help but respond to his lover’s broad grin with a smile of his own, taking the hand that was being held out to him and allowing himself to be tugged upstairs. Gregory pulled him into his newly decorated space with a little flourish, setting his dinner down on top of a smallish but well-appointed desk.

“Oh.” Mycroft blinked at the new bookshelves standing to either side of the desk, and the black leather sofa situated across the room. There were still crates littered about, as it was clear that Gregory was deep in the process of organising things to his liking. “I see your furnishings arrived as well.”

“Showed up shortly after George left to pick you up. The movers hauled everything up and even helped us get that blasted weight machine into the garage.” Greg played with his fingers nervously. “Do you approve?”

Mycroft turned to him with a little frown. “Gregory, this is to be your space. What does it matter if I approve?”

“It’s still your house, Mycroft.”

“No. Not anymore. It’s ours now.” Mycroft let his gaze roam. “Although for the record, I do.”

“It doesn’t get the official seal until you’ve tested out the sofa.” Greg chuckled as Mycroft rolled his eyes, but he didn’t resist as he was pushed down gently. He wiggled into the plush seat cautiously, giving a tiny little nod as he settled down. “Ah, so you do like it, hm?”

“Why yes, Gregory. It’s firm but not hard, and the leather is pleasantly supple. I would say that you chose very well... What - what are you doing?”

Greg grinned as he straddled his Omega’s thighs, sinking down and rocking against him lightly. “Gotta have a proper test run, of course.”

Mycroft swallowed thickly. “We... We have guests just downstairs, my dear. Perhaps not just at this moment...”

“Pfft, they don’t matter. We’ll just close the door and be very, very quiet.” Greg’s smile sharpened as he felt a definite twitch from down below. “You can’t say that you haven’t been fancying a bit of special attention the past couple of days.” He ground down a bit harder, his eyes twinkling as Mycroft bit back on a moan. “Doesn’t have to be anything too, um...probing.” Greg sighed as he leant in, nosing around his lover’s ear. “I could just go down on you. I’d love to feel you in my mouth, taste you on my tongue.” He nibbled gently as Mycroft’s whole body went stiff. “Oh _yes_... Wouldn’t take long, would it?”

“Gre-Gregory... No.”

Greg pulled back with a frown and a wrinkled brow. “What? Why?”

“Not while there are people in the house.”

“But...” Greg shook himself. “You had men here throughout the entirety of your heat! How is this any different?”

Mycroft tipped his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “It just is. Please, Gregory. Once they’re gone, I will be at your mercy. I promise you.”

“Won’t be as fun without the potential for discovery.” Greg slid off his lap with a lacklustre sigh and a grumpy expression. “I guess I’ll still have the opportunity to defile the new sofa at some point, so alright. But I will expect you to make good on that promise, Mr. Holmes.”

“I have every intention of doing so, believe me.”

Greg gave his bum a little wiggle as he paused in the doorway. “You’re under no obligation to join us, of course. But it might be nice.”

Mycroft blinked and nodded shallowly as his lover disappeared. He listened to the noises from the first floor and stared at the single piece of pizza still sitting on the desk across the room, realising that for the first time, he felt a bit of a stranger in his own home. He pondered momentarily, supposing that perhaps this was the sort of thing that Gregory had been worried about at the beginning of their unconventional courting. That Mycroft might resent his home being taken over by a livelier group than he was used to entertaining on his own, no matter how temporarily.

But no, how could he? As he had mentioned to Gregory earlier, this was now his home as well. It had been from the moment that Mycroft had decided that he wanted him for his permanent bond-mate, and not just as some proverbial roll in the hay. He couldn’t help but be pleased at the progress that his lover had made in securing a space for himself, settling into the place where he had always belonged. Mycroft looked around at the freshly-painted walls, the new furnishings, at the heavy bag hanging in the corner and felt nothing but warmth in his chest.

He stood and wandered back to the desk, taking a bite of cold pizza and debating whether or not to heat it up in the microwave that they had in the bedroom. Although he knew that he would be welcome downstairs, he wasn’t feeling fortified for such camaraderie at the moment. Mycroft sighed and nibbled, looking down into a crate that had been partially disemboweled, leaving its contents strewn about on the floor at his feet. He blinked and reached down to pull out a file folder that was stuffed full of random newspaper clippings. Mycroft smiled as he realised it was perhaps a bit of vanity on Gregory’s part, as they were all articles in which he featured, whether as a brief mention or with full interviews on some of the more spectacular cases that had enraptured the public. He set it aside carefully, thinking of the duplicates that he had stashed in a particular folder in his desk at the office.

Mycroft chewed another bit of pizza as he tilted his head thoughtfully. Pulling out the folder had revealed an ornate photo album at the bottom of the crate. He pushed his cold dinner aside as his stomach suddenly roiled uneasily. From the gold edging and the rather elaborate embossed image of bells tied together with ribbon, it wasn’t difficult to ascertain that the album contained photographic evidence of Gregory’s previous union. Mycroft wasn’t entirely mindful of sinking slowly onto his knees, but he certainly became aware as he reached out to grasp it, the heaviness of it somehow sinking into his bones and anchoring him to the floor.

He wondered vaguely why Gregory even had it. Surely, the memories contained within would have been better suited to remain with the female half of the union… Mycroft shook his head, smacking himself mentally. More of those outdated assumptions of his, of course. There was no reason why Gregory would not wish to re-visit memories of a happier time. No doubt some of the images were those of his own friends and loved ones. Gregory’s ex-wife had clearly violated her marriage vows and obviously eschewed any type of sentimentality over the dissolution of such, so why would she want to be the one to keep it?

But no, perhaps not, as there did appear to be several photographs missing here and there, the blank spaces standing out rather starkly between candid shots of random guests. Mycroft leafed through them, pausing for a moment on a shot of Gregory standing with his groomsmen, taking in the easy smile he was presenting for the camera. His face was smooth and unlined, his hair oh-so-dark and delightfully shaggy. He was startlingly beautiful in his tuxedo, although it clearly did not fit as well as it should have.

Mycroft sniffed faintly. If they were to get married, he would ensure that nothing but the finest tailoring would grace his spouse’s magnificent form. He turned the page and froze as he looked at a close-up of the newly married couple. They were positively glowing with happiness, and it made him feel quite sick to his stomach. So young, so full of hope and promise for a bright future - the way any such union should begin.

Not full of doubt and uncertainty, with one of the participants experiencing some odd compulsion. Did Gregory even really want to bond, or was it just a way to alleviate his suffering? Was Mycroft simply to stand in as some sort of panacea for his illness - an illness that was, for all intents and purposes, actually his fault?

The photo album slipped from nerveless fingers as Mycroft’s chest constricted. He’d had no doubt, absolutely not the smallest sliver of reserve up until this moment. He had watched Gregory for years, had known the man inside and out, or so he believed. But that was before his hormones had altered the man he loved into someone that he almost didn’t recognise, someone that his closest companions were cautioning him against, even if with reservations.

Mycroft stood on shaky legs and found himself drifting down the corridor to their shared bedroom, hardly even aware of the sounds of revelry from down below. He undressed in the darkness, crawling into the bed and burying his face in Gregory’s pillow before settling back and staring up into nothing. He just had to stay true to his convictions, that was all. They were meant to be together, Mycroft knew this. He felt it at such a deep level that it was almost molecular, the drive to be near Gregory, to be made part of him. He was in Mycroft's every waking thought.

Perhaps things were a bit rocky now, but that would change. Once they had bonded, once the equilibrium had settled itself again, everything would be wonderful. The promise that he had seen sparkling in Gregory’s eyes in his wedding photos would be made by him. And this time, it would be kept, would be held as the sacred vow that it should have been all those years ago. He just had to believe in himself, in Gregory - and in their upcoming union.

Mycroft closed his eyes and drifted.

He woke to the bed shaking imperceptibly as Gregory clambered over him as gently as possible, settling in at his back and snuggling close.

“Mm. Missed you, love.”

“I didn’t feel up to joining you, I’m sorry.”

Gregory sighed, and Mycroft squinched up his face at the rather sharp scent of his breath. He’d obviously had a few more lagers at some point in the evening, which also accounted for the heaviness of his hand as he caressed his hip. Reminded irredeemably of the promise that he had made earlier in the evening and also feeling the need for more of his Alpha’s touch, he slipped his fingers in between Gregory’s and started to direct his hand toward his groin.

Gregory groaned quietly, but stilled his motion. “S’alright, love, you don’t have to.” He nuzzled into the hair at the back of his head. “Don’t think I could anyway. Sleep, hm?” Mycroft blinked into the darkness as Gregory hummed again, his arm growing heavier over his ribcage. “I’ll collect with interest...later...”

Mycroft gently brought Gregory’s hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, listening to his soft grunts of pleasure. He tucked their entwined fingers up underneath his cheek and waited for sleep to claim him once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, you lot... I did quite a bit of writing this weekend, and have a queue of about three additional chapters that I may or may not post this week, although they are a bit shorter than usual. Hard to say, as I try to pace myself and always fail. :) 
> 
> Please read, please comment... 
> 
> I adore you all!

He did sleep, eventually, but it wasn’t entirely restful. Mycroft woke in the early hours of the morning with a distinct recollection of tossing about in the night, causing Gregory to roll away from him fitfully. Indeed, he had his back to him now, and Mycroft sat up slowly to peer down at him, his face mashed into his pillow, his mouth slack in unconsciousness. Thank goodness his Alpha was getting the rest he so clearly needed, but Mycroft wished heartily that it could have been accomplished without the need for excessive alcohol consumption.

His nose wrinkled at the aroma emanating from Gregory’s pores, the stale sweet-sharp scent of spilled beer. Sighing softly, he knew that he’d be getting no more sleep, even though it was a good two hours before he usually roused himself. Finding that the unpleasant odour followed him into the bathroom, Mycroft firmly closed the door behind himself and indulged in a very long shower, meditating on the day ahead to distract himself from the ludicrous worries of the night before.

Choosing not to get dressed just yet, he threw a silken dressing gown on over nothing at all, luxuriating in the feel of the fabric sliding over his skin. Mycroft slipped from the room and headed downstairs, pausing briefly to duck his head into Gregory’s study to take away the sadly neglected remains of the dinner that he had not eaten the night before. His stomach rumbled as he looked down at it, his gaze studiously avoiding the photo album that was still lying open on the floor as he turned from the room.

He discarded the pizza in the rubbish bin as he got the kettle started, opting for a more sedate start to the day, tea instead of coffee. After a brief detour to survey the sitting room and breathing a silent sigh of relief that it had been tidied - George’s doing, no doubt - Mycroft made himself a light breakfast. He carried it all past the staircase to his own study, setting it down next to his laptop. Munching quietly on a piece of toast and browsing through his usual news sites, he simply let himself sit, enjoying his moment of quiet solitude.

Mycroft finished his breakfast in quick order and found himself contemplating the possibility of another egg as he sat back and looked around. His study was a bit larger than Gregory’s new space, not that was readily apparent, since every available wall was lined with crowded bookshelves. Books and a desk and his chair, that was all. He primarily used this space for work and little more, but that was no reason to neglect it if he were intent on making some decorative changes around the house. He could use a new lamp, and perhaps a decorative rug...

His eyes tripped over Gregory’s plush dinosaur as he glanced around. Mycroft blinked, suddenly feeling rather emotional over the idea that it may soon be relocated. He had grown used to the idea of it being there, a silent companion to watch over him while he worked. He was actually fond of it, which seemed a ridiculous notion. He’d had no use for such playthings when he was a boy, why should they appeal to him now?

For no other reason than because it was Gregory’s, that was why. Because it reminded him of his lover’s quirky sense of humour, of the gentleness in his heart and the wickedness of his grin. Mycroft swallowed as the memory of that grin made something crackle with electricity in his lower spine. Particularly as that memory was followed by the sensation of Gregory’s body heat radiating against his skin much as it had the night before. When his devilish mate had tempted him with the offer of his mouth, blithely ignoring the risk of discovery from his men.

Even though it had only been three days since they had last dallied, Mycroft was craving the touch of his Alpha’s hand, feeling it as an urgent compulsion deep within him. It had taken such a short amount of time for the physical side of their relationship to become something that he desperately needed in his life, a notion that had never once entered his mind when he had been pining after Gregory from afar. A need that his Alpha exploited every opportunity he got, a tidy bit of manipulation that Mycroft was exceedingly grateful for.

But seeing as how Gregory was unavailable to him for the moment, and likely to remain so until this evening at the earliest... Mycroft shut his laptop and settled back in his chair, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back, untying his robe and letting it fall open lazily. He let that little spark bloom and expand low in his belly, imagining what might have transpired the night before, if only he hadn’t been so priggish. It was all too easy to conjure up the delight that would have sparked in his lover’s dark eyes, the way he would have eagerly dropped to his knees for him.

That his Alpha was so willing to service him without prioritising his own pleasure over that of his Omega’s was another trait that Mycroft positively cherished. He had never imagined that he would have found such a thing, as all of the other Alphas had never even enquired whether their shared experiences had been good for him as well. He had come, hadn’t he? That was all the proof of their own virility that was required on their parts. Mycroft wrenched his thoughts away from those other Alphas, those imposters, and back towards his chosen mate. None of them could even compare to Gregory’s sterling example, his strength and beauty.

No, none of them had ever inspired Mycroft to run his hands down his own body, to let his nails drag lightly over his own chest, to feel his nipples pebbling up under the pads of his fingers. He sighed quietly and pictured his lover’s mouth, the manner in which his devilishly nimble tongue would dart out to wet his lips before he would press a delicate kiss to the crown of his cock. Mycroft gasped quietly as he took himself delicately in between thumb and forefinger, applying just the lightest of pressure at the base.

Gregory would tease at first, because he was a horrible monster, but also because he loved to watch as Mycroft unravelled before him, loved to make him lose control of his senses. He would lick and nibble and caress with just the very tips of his fingers, his dark eyes glowing with lust and his gravelly voice offering filthy praises. But then something in his lighthearted regard would shift, his teasing touches transforming into a thing of hungry determination.

Mycroft moaned as he wrapped his fingers around himself, clearly seeing his lover in his mind’s eye, picturing the way he would slide all the way down on him, staring up at him almost defiantly. His hips gave a little kick as he tugged his foreskin up over the head of his cock, releasing it and squirming in his chair as it retracted again. He tried to treat himself as Gregory might, lightly, gently, but it had been too long, (pah, a mere three days - what was _happening_ to him?), and the anticipation too strong, so he simply gave in.

He took himself firmly in hand and tugged, his free hand clutching at the inside of his thigh as he let himself feel, let his hips and his hand work together in an easy and soothing rhythm. He kept the image of his lover fixed in his mind, watching with increasing urgency as his cock slid in and out of that wicked mouth, hearing Gregory’s encouraging muffled grunts, and with one decisive tug on his bollocks, Mycroft bit back on a high-pitched squeal as he released, striping his belly and fingers in equal measure.

He slumped down in his chair as his vision cleared and heartbeat calmed, breathing in the heady scent of his own come. Mycroft looked down at himself in a daze, feeling rather proud of the delightfully obscene picture that he was presenting, robe thrown open, his cock heavy between his legs and glistening with spend. If only there were someone around eager to take advantage of his somewhat compromised position... He snorted as there was a faint twitch underneath his fingers. It wouldn’t do to let his mind linger on a subsequent fantasy - he would most likely wind up masturbating the whole morning away.

Mycroft sighed and sat up, carefully wiping himself off with a bundle of tissues. At least his body was more relaxed and his mind a bit clearer now... Tossing the soiled mass into the small rubbish bin by the door, he abruptly decided that yes, he would have another egg after all. Securely tying his dressing gown around him once more, he gathered up his dirty dishes and went back into the kitchen.

Less than an hour later saw him well-fed, well-dressed and ready to start the day. Mycroft tidied here and there in both the kitchen and sitting room as he waited on George, feeling not exactly restless, but vaguely uneasy. He shook it off at the sound of the quiet beep from the front door.

His driver didn’t look entirely surprised to see Mycroft standing in the kitchen all by himself. He nodded toward the stairs. “Still out, then?”

Mycroft smiled wryly. “Like the proverbial log, yes.” He tilted his head curiously. “Just how many?”

George shrugged vaguely and not at all convincingly. “I really couldn’t say, sir. I wasn’t counting.”

Mycroft felt his eyes narrow slightly, but he let it go. It was an odd sensation, realising that your one constant companion was withholding information, but doing it on behalf of someone you loved. “Very well.”

George blinked slowly. “It was an anomaly anyway. It won’t be like that for long.” He reached for the overcoat hanging on the rack by the door, shaking it out and holding it up for Mycroft to slip his arms into.

He froze as there was the lightest of squeezes on his shoulder. “No, it won’t. You’re quite right.” Mycroft glanced over his shoulder and offered a small smile. “As usual.”

George ushered him out the door and shut it quietly behind them with a click and another soft beep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about posting this one and the next as one larger piece, but it seemed to break up pretty naturally, so I kept them both separate. But at least they're both complete, so another chapter should be coming up within a day or two!
> 
> Please read, please comment - I love hearing from you all, and so does the muse!

Upstairs, Greg shifted unhappily as he inched toward consciousness, rolling over on his belly and pulling a pillow over his head. He rubbed his face into the mattress, whining quietly at the throbbing in his head. Knowing that he wasn’t going to get any more sleep unless he managed to find some pain relief, he slowly pushed his lower half off the bed, attempting to gain his footing without actually moving his head.

_“Ergh.”_ He briefly entertained the idea of simply letting the rest of his body slip to the floor so he could just crawl to his intended destination, but rolled his eyes at his own ridiculousness in the next moment. He very slowly and very carefully rolled over, pushing himself upright at the breakneck pace of a snail. No use in being pitiful if there wasn’t anyone around to tut at or fawn over him for it. There was a stillness in the room that he could feel echoed in the rest of the house - Mycroft had clearly already left for the day.

And no wonder, as the clock on the bedside table read nearly eleven. Greg smacked his lips together and stuck out a frightfully fuzzy tongue as he sat on the edge of the mattress, still attempting to gather his legs under him. Getting a bit free-handed with the beer always left him with the worst after-effects, but holy God, he didn’t think it had ever been this bad before. His entire body felt as though Earth’s gravity had been turned up to eleven, and when he managed to struggle to his feet, the resulting thud in his head made every nerve under his skin scream in agony. Fuck. Just how many had he had?

And why, for Christ’s sake? A couple with friends, sure, that wasn’t anything unusual, but why the hell had he kept going? He only drank like that when he was upset, and knew himself well enough to cut it off after a certain point. But he hadn’t been upset the night before... Had he? Greg shambled off to the bathroom and stared blearily in the mirror, wincing at his red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. He blinked against the light and dry-swallowed a couple of paracetamol before turning toward the toilet.

His stomach did tremble slightly, but thankfully he wasn’t feeling particularly sick. Greg rather thought that his head would simply split open and spill its contents if he had felt the need to vomit. Instead he braced himself against the wall with one hand and relieved himself, his aim somewhat wobbly. He grimaced as he looked down, vowing to wipe up his mess later, when he was able to bend over without the distinct possibility of simply passing out. There was a lingering disquiet in his head as he stared blankly at the shower cubicle.

No. Coffee first. Greg slowly meandered through the bedroom and down the hall, blithely ignoring his nakedness as he trailed his fingers along the wall to his study. He paused in the doorway, looking across the room at his new sofa. Oh, but he had been upset, hadn’t he? Now he distinctly remembered being vaguely angry with Mycroft for rejecting his advances, for leaving him alone to entertain a bunch of virtual strangers.

Logically, Greg knew that there was no reason for his anger, that it was just due to his overwrought state. Mycroft was naturally far less sociable than he was. This was something that Greg knew well, and accepted as a vital aspect of his partner's personality. So too did Mycroft’s men - no doubt they would have been more shocked if he had chosen to join them, and their own carefree behaviour would have been affected negatively. As it was, they had all managed to enjoy their bit of relaxation after a rather busy day. Greg wouldn’t have wanted to take that away from them, and he had appreciated the opportunity to get to know them a bit better as it was.

As for his indecent proposal, well... He knew at the time that it hadn’t been all that appropriate, and thinking about it now, he was actually proud that Mycroft had stood up for himself, even though he had clearly been aching for some physical affection over the past couple of days. Greg had pushed his Omega’s boundaries, and he would apologise for making him uncomfortable later on. Tonight. Tonight would be theirs. He would fix something light for dinner, there would be no company to entertain and absolutely no full bottles of wine.

Greg turned in preparation to make his shaky way down the stairs, his gaze sweeping over the mess on the floor, and - oh. _Oh fucking hell..._ He blinked down at the full-page photo of him and Nora, their cheeks pressed together as they grinned irrepressibly. Greg clutched at his stomach as it debated whether or not to finally rebel. At least now he had a better idea of why Mycroft had isolated himself and gone off to bed so early... He stepped further into the room and prodded at the photo album with his foot, closing it securely.

Knowing instinctively that bending down was still not part of his physical repertoire at the moment, Greg swept the heavy book out of the room with his foot, continuing to nudge at it until it tumbled down the stairs. He leant up against the wall as he listened to it fall, smiling with satisfaction as it came to a sliding halt in the middle of the foyer. He ignored it as he turned into the kitchen, supporting himself on the worktop as he approached the coffee machine. Greg pulled the canister containing the grounds close, but paused as he noticed a small note tacked to the machine.

_‘XO -M’_

Oh God, yes. He pushed the button and leant his cheek down on the top of the machine as it started to brew what Mycroft had already prepared for him. Greg closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma-laden steam. God, he loved his sweet little Omega _so very much_ right now... What had he done so right in his life to be rewarded with such an understanding, generous mate?

Greg wiped at his face viciously as the coffee maker came to a sputtering, hissing stop, wishing heartily that he could just get all this emotional bullshit over and done with. Stupid, stupid - he’d been so stubborn, wrong-footed and such a complete and utter moron. How had Mycroft even managed to put up with his idiocy? Why hadn’t he just tossed him out on his ear weeks ago? Greg growled faintly as he took his head in both hands, fisting his hair and tugging hard.

The corresponding thud in his brain was so sudden and so severe that his breath caught in his lungs and his vision went pure white. He blinked rapidly to restore it as he carefully braced himself against the worktop, letting out his air on a low whine. There was no need to torment himself. Yes, he had been stupid, but that error was going to be rectified, and very soon too. Coffee. Greg took a hearty swig of the cup he had just poured, singeing the hell out of his tongue and not giving one single damn.

After that cup was demolished, he made himself some dry toast to hopefully calm the burning in his stomach and carried it all over to the kitchen table, making sure to include the entire pot of coffee. Before sitting down, he looked over at the discarded photo album with a heavy sigh and went to retrieve it. Not wanting to anger the headache gods, he once again poked and directed with his foot until it was resting next to the chair. Greg perched his very naked arse right on the edge of the seat and cautiously leant over until he was able to grasp it, plopping it down on the table in front of him.

He nibbled on a piece of toast as he opened it. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he had kept the damn thing, nor why he had chosen to bring it here, of all places. He just hadn’t thought anything of tossing it into a crate right along with the rest of his crap, really - it was just another book, nothing all that significant. Greg paused on a photo of his groomsmen, reaching out to pluck it from the page. Uni buddies, mostly... When was the last time he had even spoken with any of them? He shook his head and quickly turned past the forcibly posed shot that had obviously spooked his mate the night before.

God, he could barely even remember who most of these people were. Third cousins twice removed or some such bullshit, more quote-unquote friends who had clearly used the happy occasion as nothing more than an opportunity to get spectacularly blitzed. Greg kept flipping pages, becoming more and more irritated. _None_. None of these people even mattered now, and he found himself wondering if they ever had. This time would be different. The ceremony would be small and intimate, with only the people that they truly loved surrounding them, supporting them.

If they even were to get married, of course. Greg blinked back another stupid tear and took a vicious bite of his toast, scattering crumbs all over some dumb stranger’s face. He flipped through more pages, almost ripping them out of the book in his haste and frustration to find the one memory he wanted to keep. He finally found it on the last page, the photo of him with his folks. They were all just sitting and talking together, both of them focused on his face as he laughed at some unremembered jest. Greg smiled when he saw that they were holding hands on the tabletop, his father’s squat fingers intertwined with his mom’s rather delicate bony digits. Thankfully it was a candid shot, as he distinctly remembered both of them being rather stiff and uncomfortable most of the day.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t liked Nora well enough - they just knew that she hadn’t been the right one for their Alpha son. Not that they overtly objected to the marriage, of course. They were both too genteel for that kind of nonsensical drama, and knew that Greg’s life was his own to fuck up as he saw fit. Both of his parents had sat him down to state their reservations early on, when he and Nora had first started seeing each other. It had been far more obvious to them that she was on the fast track to marriage than it had been to Greg, and they had advised a longer engagement. Of course Nora had objected, and of course Greg had folded.

He pulled the photo from its fasteners and shut the book with a thud and a wince. He traced over the lines of their well-loved faces gently. “You were right. God, you were so right.” Greg ignored the fresh set of tears, feeling no sense of guilt or shame over them this time. “I wish you could have met him, I really do. Christ, the political arguments you would’ve gotten into with him, Da. Me and Mum would have been stuck in the kitchen with a pot of tea, rolling our eyes and playing cards...” He propped the picture up against the album and cradled his mug in his hands, sipping and looking at it through his tears. “I wish you could’ve seen, that you could’ve known. It’s right this time, I’ve finally done well for myself. Mycroft’ll look after me, and I’m gonna do the same for him. It’ll be _right_.”

Suddenly bone-tired, Greg laid his head on his crossed arms and slept.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am impatient, and because this is where it gets a bit hairy...
> 
> *evil grin*

Greg woke after his impromptu nap with a low groan, sitting up straight and wiping the sticky drool from his face with a grimace of distaste. He was stiff all over and fucking _freezing_ , but at least the pounding in his head had been turned down significantly. Thank God for Mycroft’s coffee. He shivered as he pushed himself to his feet, gathering up his detritus and bringing it all over to the sink. He set aside the two photos that he had pulled from that accursed wedding album and tipped the rest right into the rubbish bin. Greg rubbed his hands together with satisfaction, feeling an odd lightness suddenly sweeping through his body. He shivered again, and determined that what he needed was a very long, very _hot_ shower.

Greg headed for the stairs and paused as he caught a whiff of something intriguing coming from the direction of Mycroft’s study. It smelled like his Omega, of course, but also of something vaguely tangy - something that made his mouth water slightly. He stood in the doorway, breathing deeply, growling faintly as he realised what must have happened in this room earlier. Poor sweet thing had just been too worked up, and had felt the need for release. Oh, but he wished that he had been able to witness it, to watch as his beautiful mate had pleasured himself... He let his nose lead him until he was rather rudely rooting through the small bin by the door. Greg growled again as he plucked the crunchy bundle of tissues out and held it to his nose, giggling happily.

His cock twitched hopefully, but his head throbbed just once in response, a handy little smack-down, as if one was really necessary. Greg winced and took his rather dirty prize with him as he headed upstairs. He detoured past the bedside table on his way into the bathroom, swiping his phone from the charger. He took a moment to look at his messages, not at all surprised to find that George had texted a couple of times already.

 _‘Just let me know when you’re ready to tackle that monstrosity in the garage.’_ That had been before he’d woken the first time - the second was a couple of hours later. _‘Of course, if you’re not feeling up to it, that’s fine too. Just let me know.’_

Greg grinned as he composed his own message. _‘Back in the land of the living - should be mostly human in about an hour.’_

George responded almost immediately. After all, he was required to be available at any moment of the day. _‘You do know that I’d be happy to do it next week, right?’_

_‘Rather just get it over with. I appreciate the thought, though.’_

_‘No worries. You want me to bring you anything? I’ve always found a bacon butty to be just the thing after a tidy drunk.’_

_‘God yes. Maybe I should just marry you instead...’_

_‘Tempting, but I’d be drawn and quartered for high treason.’_

_‘Ha! But speaking of, just how many did I knock back last night? My recollection is a bit...hazy.’_

_‘Not surprised. You were working on number eight when I managed to convince you to go upstairs.’_

Greg blinked at his phone in disbelief. _‘You mean I didn’t see you and the lads out? That I left you to clean up that mess all on your own? Christ, but I’m a tit lately.’_

_‘I don’t mind. Honestly.’_

_‘Mate, sometimes I wonder if you’re even real.’_

_‘It’s my job to ensure that Mr. Holmes remains happy. You’re a part of that equation now. Besides, it’s just a temporary condition.’_

_‘I wish I could be as sure.’_

_‘Don’t doubt yourself, Greg. You can’t afford to.’_

_‘I suppose you’re right. As usual.’_

_‘I’ll be by in an hour with fresh blood and greasy food.’_

Greg shook his head, trying to think of all the things he could say, but really there was only one thing that could possibly suffice. _‘Thanks, mate.’_

He took a few minutes to scrape the fuzz off his teeth before getting in the shower, breathing a little sigh of relief as the minty taste of the toothpaste wiped away the stench of the sewer from his mouth. He ran the water perhaps a touch hotter than strictly necessary, but it just felt too damn good as it beat down on the back of his neck, soothing his headache even further. Greg smiled as he lathered up with Mycroft’s fancy body wash, something absurdly expensive and vaguely citrus-scented. The aroma was light enough that it would wear off quickly, but at the moment it made him feel as though his Omega was holding him close, something that he sorely needed.

Greg very briefly entertained the idea of having a quick wank, but his head was still muzzy and his limbs unwieldy, so he tamped that notion down firmly. Besides, having a bit of pent-up energy to expend on his mate later would surely be greatly appreciated... Stepping from the shower, he gingerly rubbed himself down with one of Mycroft’s luxurious towels and combed his hair back before shaving. He nodded and tipped a wink at himself in the mirror, feeling quite ridiculous but also somewhat relieved - at least he was beginning to feel almost human again.

Slipping some loose jogging bottoms on over nothing at all, Greg scratched at his bare chest as he wandered into his new study. First item of business would be emptying those crates - any actual organisation could happen later. He spent quite a few somewhat sedate minutes filling up his bookshelves, and dumping the miscellaneous ephemera that was left behind into the drawers of his new desk. Some of it he just had to boggle at for a moment or two - just how many pens and notebooks did one man _need_ for goodness’ sake? Where on earth had he gotten three packets of silver-foil stickers of random animals, and for God’s sake _why_?

He’d have to figure it out later, as the soft beep of the security system being accessed echoed through the foyer. Pulling himself up off his knees without simply toppling over was a bit of a trial, but he managed by supporting himself on his desk. He hummed at the quiet murmur of voices and the welcome scent of bacon floating through the air. “Be down in a second!”

George hollered back with a laugh in his voice. “Better be, or this lot will steal your food!”

Greg grinned and turned away to head into the bedroom to find a shirt when something else caught his attention. There was another scent combined with that of the almost overwhelming grease... He felt his body swivel on the spot, closing his eyes and lifting his nose in the air.

It was...green, somehow - tender and succulent. Something fresh and wild, crisp and clean. Young and unfettered. And underneath - oh fuck _no._

Greg was barely even aware of slowly descending the staircase, until he blinked the haze from his eyes and looked up into a startled but quite lovely face. The brown-haired lad had bright green eyes that widened and darkened as they flickered over his naked chest - eyes that seemed to sparkle with anticipation as the skin around them began to glow with a rosy blush. Greg stared blankly at the young man who was pressed back against Mycroft’s front door, his posture submissive and yet eager. He looked like nothing more than willing prey, and it made Greg ache with an unseemly need.

He deliberately curled his hands into tense fists to keep himself anchored, speaking a single word of command. “George.” Without waiting for Mycroft’s driver to emerge from the sitting room, Greg turned and went into the kitchen, pulling down a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. He pressed up against the centre worktop as he knocked it back in an attempt to control his traitorous body, his stupid cock already plumping up hopefully. George breezed in with his bag of greasy goodies, coming to an uncertain halt at the dark look on his face. Greg spoke with his jaw clenched. “That one by the door.”

“Who, Marcus? He’s one of Anthea’s new recruits. Bit young, but quick as a whip. He...”

“He’s Omega.”

George froze solid, looking Greg over warily. “But that would have...”

“Unpresented. He might not even know. But I do.” Greg’s neck cracked as he twisted his head. “I can smell it, George, can smell _him_. He’s ripe - fertile.” His nostrils flared as he growled low, trying to keep his voice in check. “The longer he’s exposed to me, the quicker he’ll go into heat. You’ve got to get him out before that happens. Get him out, take him to Mycroft. I won’t be able to stop myself, I...” George took a step back from the anguish in Greg’s eyes. “I’ll take him... I - I’ll breed him.” His head drooped. “Please, George. Please take him and _go_.”

There was a plaintive voice from the foyer. “I don’t...  _Ergh_. Suddenly I don’t feel so good...”

The glass clutched in Greg’s hand simply shattered, propelling George into motion before he even spoke. “OUT! _NOW!_ ” It was more of a guttural cry than clear language, something primal and animalistic.

George skidded into the foyer, looking to Matthew, who was attempting to hold Marcus up against the door. His face had gone bloodless and sweaty, and he was clearly on the verge of passing out. George immediately crouched and hoisted the swooning figure up over his shoulder, nearly pushing Matthew to the ground. Matthew looked at him, eyes wide and uncomprehending, but he nodded curtly at his wordless gesture, pulling the door open and skipping out of the way as George barrelled past with his burden.

George immediately turned as the door was slammed shut behind him, enabling the security and changing the passcode with quick fingers. He didn’t _think_ that Greg would follow, even if his mind were clear enough to remember the code, but... Both he and Matthew flinched as there was a loud thump on the door, quickly followed by a low howl of rage.

“Shit!” They both stumbled down the front stairs, taking a moment to lean up against the car, breathing heavily. “Shit shit _shit!_ ”

George managed a shaky grin. “Well said, lad.” Marcus moaned and thrashed uneasily from his compromised position, and George cautiously lowered him to his feet, attempting to look into his eyes.

Marcus’ long limbs pushed against him futilely, a whimpering cry pushing past his lips. “I don’t, I don’t understand who - what, I wanna go back, good, smelled good... _looked_ good oh God, lemme go, lemme...lemme...” The young man struggled weakly and gave out a soft sigh before going completely limp, making George grunt against his suddenly dead weight.

“That’s done it.” He nodded at Matthew, who got the back door open and helped to lower the unconscious bundle onto the seat.

“What do we do now?”

George pulled out his bundle of keys. “We do what the Alpha told us to do. We take him to Mr. Holmes.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is extremely short, more of an interlude than anything else, but I hope it conveys Greg's inner thoughts adequately...
> 
> Please read, please comment - more to come soon!
> 
> *mwah*

Greg kicked at the door futilely, pounding his fists against it in impotent rage. He could still smell him, the ripe promise of a young, virgin Omega. He could have been his and _only_ his, no taint of another Alpha ever corrupting him. To have such a prize, oh - to mark him, to claim him utterly... A bonding in first heat was an almost magical thing, inspiring such devotion in the Omega that they would willingly follow their mate into death. Greg inhaled deeply, throwing back his head and howling out his loss.

Once again he slammed his hands flat against the barrier standing between him and his prize, blinking slowly as there was a sharp bite of pain in his left hand, making his head clear briefly. He looked at the smear of blood against the grain of the wood and turned into the light, peering at his palm. Greg plucked at the shard of glass that was protruding from the pad at the base of his thumb, pulling it out and watching stupidly as his blood dripped down onto the floor.

When - how... Oh yes - he had broken something, hadn’t he? He swayed on his feet as that enticing scent once again swirled around his head, but he shook it viciously, rejecting the innocent lure of it. No. It wasn’t right, it was wrong - all wrong. It was a lie - that wasn’t _his_ Omega. He - where was he? Greg stumbled toward the stairs, wiping at his nose with bloodied fingers, trying to block the strangeness of it, waving his free hand around his head in a vain attempt to waft the false promise away from him. He needed to scent _his_ mate, not - not this _imposter_. He followed the faint trail of dark chocolate to the bedroom, throwing his body down on Mycroft’s side of the bed.

He buried his face in his mate’s pillow, huffing deeply at the sheets as he ground his erection into the mattress, but no, it wasn’t enough. More, he needed more. He rolled off the bed and made his hazy way into the bathroom, tipping the laundry basket onto its side and falling to his knees to paw through the contents. Dressing gown, yes, soiled vests and underpants, yes, yes - oh God _yes..._ There he was, his Omega, his Mycroft. Rich and dark and bittersweet, a scent to make his mouth water and cock throb.

Greg piled up the dirty laundry in between his spread thighs and pushed his bottoms down, giving in to the primal imperative that was driving him, taking himself in hand, jerking his cock hard and fast. Yes, this - _this_ scent, not the other, this was his chosen mate, his heart and his love. He sobbed quietly as he pulled on himself, taking in a gulping breath and suddenly picking up the aroma of the dirty little prize that he had sniffed out earlier. Pushing himself up on his knees, his hips jerked wildly as he reached for the crunchy bundle of tissues, but then he was holding it to his face, breathing in the smell of his Omega’s spend, and he was abruptly coming as well, releasing over his treasure trove of dirty underclothes.

Greg threw his head back as his grunting cry echoed through the tiled room, sinking back onto his heels as his cock twitched in his fist, as the stunted pleasure-pain ebbed through his body. Hardly even aware of himself, he laid down on his side and pulled his knees up, cradling the bundle of fabric close, soothed by the scent of his Omega, overlaid with the claiming mark of his own come.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Mycroft is made aware of the situation...
> 
> Eeep! Please read, please comment...
> 
> I adore each and every one of you!

George drove through the city streets as sedately as he could, flinching minutely at every unhappy whimper from the back seat. Matthew kept both his silence and a watchful eye, only the plucking of his fingertips at his trouser leg betraying his nervousness. They both sighed with relief as they made it back to HQ without any incidents, emerging from the car as one.

Matthew nodded as George turned to glance back at him. “Go on. I’ll keep an eye out.”

George almost smiled as the younger operative moved into a position where he could clearly see everything of interest, as he spread his legs slightly and folded his hands in front of him. More than ever, he found himself feeling extraordinarily lucky to have been chosen to mentor the lad, as he was shaping up very nicely. With a curt nod in return, George hurried toward the lifts.

Anthea stood with a snap as George strode into the outer office, but held herself back as she caught the dark look on his face. With two solid knocks on his employer’s door, he opened it without waiting for a response. Mycroft looked up in surprise from the documents that he had been perusing, standing and taking a step toward him. He instantly stopped in his tracks, recoiling almost as if he had hit an invisible wall.

“George! You smell...”

“Like an Omega. Yeah.”

Mycroft felt his eyes go wide, his stomach suddenly burning. He blindly reached out to support himself against the desk as his knees wobbled dangerously. _“Gregory.”_

George shook his head curtly. “No, he didn’t - but it was a near thing. He told me to bring him to you - the Omega - he, he’s sick.”

Mycroft took a reluctant half-step closer and sniffed cautiously. “It’s his first heat. Unfortunate thing probably doesn’t even know what’s happening to him.” He caught Anthea’s worried gaze from where she was peering around George’s solid bulk, blocking the doorway. “Obviously certain things were not considered when selecting new recruits...”

She blanched slightly at the tone of his voice. “I filtered out any that were registered, and there were only two out of hundreds of dossiers. I didn’t even know...” She shrugged helplessly. “I mean, doesn’t it happen at puberty?”

“Not always. If he had never been exposed to an Alpha’s pheromones, and was abstaining from physical congress, he may never had presented at all.”

George pulled a face. “Surely he’s not...”

“What? A virgin?” Mycroft looked at him as placidly as he was able. “Why ever not?”

“Well, he’s young, but not _that_ young. I mean, come on...”

Mycroft sighed heavily. “Not everyone has the same desires that you might, my fine man. Surely you are familiar with the concept of asexuality?”

George blinked as Anthea tilted her head and smirked up at him. “Well, yeah, but you lot, you’re...”

“Driven by our hormones? Unable to control our impulses, at the mercy of our biology?” Mycroft’s voice was icy, his head still reeling with the other Omega’s scent. He hated it. It smelled lush and vibrant - young. He shuddered, involuntarily clenching his fists tight. It smelt like a rival.

He shook himself as George shrugged. “Yeah. Aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately, most of us are, yes.” Mycroft rubbed at his temple, fighting off a burgeoning headache. “However, just as there are asexuals in the beta population, there are neuters in ours. They are exceedingly rare, but whether Alpha or Omega, for some reason these individuals do not experience sexual attraction or desire. If they manage to stay isolated from their counterparts, they may never go into heat or rut. Perhaps our young man is a neuter, or perhaps he is simply naïve.”

“ _Was_ naïve. He’s being taught a pretty brutal lesson at the moment."

“And he needs the proper environment in which to do so.” Mycroft steeled himself. “I will come with you.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small jar.

George frowned. “Ah. Sir, is that really wise? You’re already looking a bit green as it is.”

“That’s what this is for.” Unscrewing the lid, he dabbed some of the contents under his nose. “Menthol. It will block most of his scent.”

“You really don’t have to, you know.”

“It will be far more efficient if I do. The people at the facility that we’re taking him to know me and will see that the boy is cared for properly. Come. We’ve left him on his own for long enough.” Mycroft tucked the jar into his pocket and shooed them from his office. “Anthea, if you will forward the young man’s contact information to me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

She glanced at George, clearing her throat questioningly, and he looked back over his shoulder as he stepped up behind his employer. “Marcus. It’s Marcus.”

They rode down in the lifts together with Mycroft subconsciously holding his breath, even though the offending odour had already been tempered by the strong-smelling paste under his nostrils. He always forgot just how heavily he relied on his sense of smell to evaluate the most mundane of his everyday surroundings. Blocking it like this made his head reel slightly, made his balance unsteady and his movements unsure.

Matthew met them at the car, his eyes anxiously glancing away from his employer’s face. Mycroft sighed quietly and inclined his head graciously. “Thank you, Matthew. You are relieved for the day, although I would appreciate it if you could write up a brief report.” George gave his arm a quick squeeze as he walked past, and Mycroft took an involuntary step back. “And, ah, send that suit out for a thorough cleaning, if you would.”

Matthew blinked. “Yes, sir.” He exchanged another glance with George as he walked toward the lifts, smiling shakily at the reassuring nod he got in response.

Mycroft braced himself as George opened the back door to reveal a pitiful shape laid out on the backseat, a lean young man with light brown hair shivering uncontrollably as he curled in on himself as tightly as possible. He tried to hold onto the icy anger balled up in his chest, but it melted into oblivion as the poor boy whimpered pitifully.

“George, is there by chance a blanket in that emergency kit of yours?” His driver fetched it without comment, watching with a slight sense of astonishment as Mycroft slid into the backseat and gently took Marcus’ head in his lap, wrapping the rest of him securely in the bright orange fabric.

George took his usual seat and nodded curtly as his employer gave him an address, watching with concern even as Mycroft’s face softened upon looking down at the distressed young man. He caught faint snatches of lullabies, soothing hums and low whispers and realised that Mr. Holmes, the Iceman, was capitalising on the opportunity to show his compassion without fear of reprisal. He drove and listened, feeling his heart absolutely breaking for the man in the backseat - for both of them, really. The man who would never have the opportunity to lavish care on his own progeny looking after one whose life had just been altered irreparably.

At some point, Mycroft took out his mobile and spoke into it in low clear tones, clearly alerting someone that they were on the way. George pulled up to the kerb to find someone in a crisp uniform waiting with a wheelchair, and between them they managed to get the limp bundle somewhat settled and on his way into the facility.

George must have gaped as they walked in, as Mycroft chuckled softly beside him. “It’s just a glorified hospital, really. The expensive spa atmosphere tends to make the patients less apprehensive.”

“What is this place?”

“An Omega education centre. The only one in London.” The plump matron behind the receiving desk smiled as she stood, holding out her hand for Mycroft to shake. “Mr. Holmes, how pleasant to see you again.”

Mycroft avoided George’s gaze as he grasped the woman’s hand firmly. “Ms. Jones. Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it? Since the last fundraising gala, I believe.”

Her smile widened as she tipped a wink at George. “This man is our most generous patron. I honestly don’t know what we would do without him.” She turned her attention to the shivering young man, who blinked at her in confusion. “Who do we have here?”

“Marcus Duncan.” George cleared his throat as he dithered. “He, uh... Well, we didn’t know, and there was an Alpha...”

Ms. Jones’ head snapped up sharply. “Was he assaulted?”

“No! God, no! I would never let anything like that happen, not even...”

Mycroft stepped in smoothly. “The Alpha is question is my chosen mate, Ms. Jones. His control is sterling, however...”

Her keen blue eyes narrowed a bit dangerously. “However, you haven’t bonded yet, and he’s gone a bit mad, hasn’t he?”

George watched with dismay as his employer’s shoulders drooped and spoke up in his defence. “He chased us out. He didn’t go anywhere near Marcus, but his pheromones...”

“Yes. Mr. Holmes’ partner is most likely shedding those mating hormones like anything right now. Just a few minutes’ exposure would have been enough to push this young man into his first heat.” Her tone sharpened as she looked Mycroft over carefully. “Have you made your plans yet?”

George cleared his throat and looked away as his employer glanced away from him fretfully. “I haven’t taken my suppressant since Tuesday, but it usually takes a week for it to clear my system completely, and then another week before heat.”

She cut in abruptly. “How long have you been living together? Or at least had prolonged exposure?”

“Um. Approximately two months.”

Ms. Jones shook her head decisively. “It’ll happen sooner than you think. Especially after this. He’ll be eager, and your hormones are going to respond to that. Make sure you’re prepared now - and watch yourself.”

Mycroft suddenly drew himself up. “Gregory would never hurt me.”

Ms. Jones’ face softened. “I’m sure that he wouldn’t willingly hurt you, but he may not be the man that you know when you get home this evening. Just... Be careful. Please.”

George watched with a growing sense of trepidation as his employer’s chest began to puff up, a clear indication that he was about to unleash the wrath of God on his unwitting opponent. But then there was a loud groan from the direction of the wheelchair, and everybody froze as Marcus doubled over, nearly toppling from his seat.

Mycroft immediately turned away, attempting to discreetly stifle his gagging with the back of his hand. Ms. Jones snapped to attention, thrusting a small rubbish bin in his direction as she pointed the attendant down the corridor. “Room seven, please. I’ll send someone in to assist after we’ve cleaned this up.” The attendant swiftly wheeled the patient away, leaving a small puddle of slick behind. Mycroft retched again, trying valiantly to hold onto his lunch and sadly failing. “You. Outside.”

George watched with astonishment as his employer nodded feebly and went, clutching the bin to his chest. The matron stared after him with concern, and then turned to George with an appraising eye. “You have no idea what’s even going on, do you?”

“No, marm, I do not. But then, it’s not exactly the first time that I’ve been a little out of my depth where Mr. Holmes is concerned.”

She eyed him shrewdly. “Bodyguard?”

George eyed her warily in return. “Driver.”

“Uh-huh.” She sighed and started rummaging around behind the desk, finally coming up with a couple of spray cans and a small bin liner. “Neutralising agents. You may want to give the car and both of you a little spray before getting him back in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach is a bit too tender to take the drive all that well.” Ms. Jones smirked at George’s faint nod. “Unbound Omegas typically don’t mingle well. The competing scents, you understand. And since Mr. Holmes is in a bit of a state of flux, he’s undoubtedly extra sensitive to that kind of thing right now.” She nodded at the second spray can. “If possible, that one should be used wherever the Alpha and Omega happened to run across each other - preferably before Mr. Holmes is exposed to it.” Her eyes softened somewhat. “I know that you’re going to want to protect him, but the best option is to let him handle it himself. Alright?”

George nodded and then shook his head. “Well, no, it’s really not alright at all. But I won’t interfere.” He quirked a small smile at Ms. Jones. “Mr. Holmes isn’t without his own resources if it becomes necessary.” He looked down the corridor where Marcus had been taken. “What’s going to happen to him? What do you even do here?”

The matron smiled faintly. “Mainly, we see to it that no Omega goes through a heat alone. We guide those like your friend through a rather confusing and nerve-wracking experience, and when they come out of it, we counsel them through this change in their lives. We’ll contact his family and see to it that they are adequately informed as well, so that he has a supportive environment to return to. If his family rejects him, then we will help him through that.” She smiled sadly at his look of incredulity. “Never underestimate humanity’s capacity for cruelty, especially when it comes to things that they don’t understand.”

George tilted his head. “I’m well aware of the darker side of human nature, Ms. Jones. Still...”

“If it were a perfect world, everyone would be accepted for who they are with no qualms.” She smiled again. “But it’s only through our struggles that we learn and adapt, yes?” Ms. Jones took his arm and directed him toward the front door, where his employer was waiting. She looked at his pale face and gently extracted the bin from his shaky embrace, setting it down on the pavement before handing him the fresh liner. “For the ride home.”

Mycroft smiled wryly. “Thank you ever so.”

She turned her keen eyes back on George and gestured meaningfully at the spray cans in his hands. “Oh. Right.” He glanced back as he went to the car, watching as she and his employer spoke to each other earnestly. By the time he had lowered all the windows, raised the partition between front and back and emptied nearly an entire can of the neutraliser over the leather, Mycroft was standing by the bonnet, his face still pale but somewhat composed.

He gestured with the fist that was clutching the bin liner, offering a shaky smile. “Perhaps I should ride up front just this once?”

“I was going to recommend that very thing, yes sir.” George helped him get settled, watching with concern as he closed his eyes and leant his face toward the open window. “Home, then, Mr. Holmes?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible tease, I know! (But I'm enjoying myself far too much, so...)
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies!
> 
> (As always, comments are *greatly* appreciated - each one is like a wee flower tucked into my heart!)

Mycroft reluctantly shook his head. “I do need to get back as soon as possible, but I can’t at this precise moment. Not smelling like this. It will confuse Gregory, maybe even anger him. I need a shower and a fresh set of clothing.”

“Right. Back to the office, then.” George drove on for a moment, glancing back at the building. “If you’ll pardon me, Mr. Holmes...” Mycroft opened his eyes and looked at him curiously. “She didn’t really explain, and I must admit that I’m a bit concerned.”

Mycroft smiled faintly. “Your dedication to your men is admirable, George.” He carefully settled back with his eyes closed once again. “The entire facility is staffed by sympathetic and well-trained betas. They will help Marcus through his heat with the aid of specialised toys and synthesised Alpha pheromones. They are very well vetted, and I conduct a thorough inspection twice a year myself. I can personally assure you that he is in absolutely no danger.”

“I... Thank you, sir.” George focused on the road, wondering vaguely what other secrets his employer might be holding close to his chest. Not that it was any of his business, and of course he knew better than to pry. He gave a small start as Mycroft sighed next to him.

“I have a great deal of sympathy for that young man. It was much the same for me, I’m afraid.”

George swallowed uneasily. “Sir, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” George fell silent as Mycroft’s hand reached out to give him a tentative pat on the arm. “I want to. It will ease your mind, and perhaps mine as well. As you can imagine, it isn’t something that I talk about often.” He waited for George’s terse nod before continuing. “I was sixteen when I had my first heat. My father would often have business contacts come up to the estate for a weekend, either to impress or to intimidate them, I was never sure.” He chuckled softly. “It was probably both, of course. The first Alpha I ever encountered was pushing sixty, and had been bonded for many years, so the reaction was nowhere near as volatile as what you must have witnessed today. He was very courteous about it, most likely to preserve his acquaintance with my father. We were introduced, but he immediately excused himself and took my father aside, no doubt to explain the situation.

The Alpha returned to London within the hour, but the hormonal damage had already been done, unfortunately. I took to my bed the next day. Thankfully, my father had stayed up late making arrangements, and a couple of caretakers showed up shortly after the first rush of my heat. I was a mess by then, of course. Utterly bewildered and half-mad, even though my father had tried to explain the situation to me.” Mycroft laughed somewhat hollowly. “I wasn’t a neuter - I’d had the typical teenage yearnings - but I was _extremely_ naïve. I had no intellectual grasp of what sex even was, what it meant, so for my body to be thrown into such an intense physical frenzy was honestly quite terrifying.

The attendants were remarkable. So calm and steady. I was never left alone, and they made sure to explain everything that was happening to me. Over and over again, they talked me through it and comforted me whenever I broke down.”

George cleared his throat. “If you’ll forgive me, sir... That sounds a damn sight better than what most people experience during their first time.”

Mycroft barked out a laugh. “Except for the mind-numbing terror and absolute loss of control, yes.” He smiled to show he wasn’t offended. “I was extremely fortunate. I am well aware of this, which is why I’ve ensured that the centre has remained open. There have been attempts to close it from time to time, mostly because the relative rarity of the population does not seem to merit the expenditure. I firmly believe that we would be lost without them. Many Omegas choose never to spend their heats with an Alpha, far preferring the relative safety of the centre over the possibility of forced bonding. After I first moved to London, I used their services until such a time as I felt better able to fend for myself. They were, and are, quite invaluable to the community at large.”

“Yes, I can see that.” George pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition, pausing before exiting the car. “I do thank you, Mr. Holmes. You have eased my mind tremendously.”

Mycroft sighed again as he left the car. “You are certainly welcome. Now. Not to be impertinent, but...”

George quirked a crooked grin. “You want me to shower and change as well.”

Mycroft led the way to the lifts, his nose wrinkling. “Please.”

They walked together to the operatives’ barracks, to the shared showers. Mycroft had one upstairs in his fully-outfitted en suite, but he wanted to be as quick as possible. Anthea had been alerted by text what they would need, and so they were greeted with suit carriers and small toiletry cases with soaps and shampoos containing odour-neutralising charcoal.

George averted his eyes as his employer hastily disrobed and ducked under a showerhead, immediately lathering up both head and body. He let out a groan of relief as he inhaled deeply. “Bless the woman.” George snorted out a sharp burst of laughter which quickly devolved into breathless giggles as he tried to suppress them. Mycroft rolled his eyes and rinsed before washing himself all over again. George followed his example with a second thorough scrubbing and rinse.

They dressed with equal haste, standing with their backs to each other. Mycroft sighed quietly at the rather plain suit that he had been given, a far cry from his usual bespoke finery. There were no braces, no tie, and an appalling lack of a waistcoat. Not that it mattered, as he doubted that he would be wearing anything for very long once he got home anyway. It was simply the principle of the thing. He took the extra item that had been included in his toiletry kit out and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket.

George blinked as he turned around, fighting back on his grin as his employer surveyed himself in the mirror somewhat grumpily, fiddling uneasily with his collar. “Um, sir? You sure about this? We could give him some time to cool off.”

Mycroft shook his head curtly. “No, that will just make it worse.” He looked up into his driver’s eyes. “He needs me, George. I must go to him.”

“Right you are, Mr. Holmes.”

Once again they trooped back into the garage, with George watching his employer carefully. He was clearly bolstering his confidence as best as he was able, standing up straight and throwing his shoulders back. Although he was also operating on a bit of autopilot, as he headed straight for his usual car.

“Ah, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps this one instead?” George indicated something far less stately, quite a bit more spritely and a great deal less smelly.

Mycroft blinked at the small roadster and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“We’ll get Miss Ivy all cleaned up for you later.”

Another slow blink. “Miss...Ivy?”

George smiled as encouragingly as he was able. “Yes, sir.”

Mycroft shook his head as he slipped into passenger seat, gratefully taking the unused can of neutralising spray and clutching it tight as some sort of talisman. They drove in silence, although Mycroft’s random flailing and low hisses of surprise as George took advantage of the tight steering at every corner secretly thrilled the operative. It wasn’t often that he actually got to put his skills to their proper use, namely, getting from point A to point B in as reckless a manner as possible.

He screeched up into Mr. Holmes’ drive and cut the engine, smiling brightly as he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a small notebook and a pen. “I changed the code when we fled earlier, just in case. Here you go.” Mycroft took the scrap of paper and once again found himself blinking in disbelief. George suppressed a grin as he looked from him to the paper and back again. “It seemed appropriate at the time.”

“I...see...” Mycroft inclined his head. “Was there anything else of note?”

George cleared his throat uneasily. “He was holding a glass in his hand when Marcus collapsed, and well...he more or less crushed it to bits. I’d be very surprised if he didn’t sustain some kind of injury from it.”

Mycroft nodded faintly. “Thank you, George. I will report in later.”

“Sir, are you sure? I can wait, I can go in with you, I...”

“No, you most certainly cannot _._ I know that you are concerned for me, and I do appreciate it more than I can convey. But this situation will only be resolved if I handle it myself. You’re not an Alpha, but you would be seen as a threat, and he’s almost certainly beyond himself at this moment. He would attack you without any second thought, and you would not fare well in such a scuffle.” Mycroft looked up at his front door, his heart thudding in his chest. “I must go in alone.”

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and slipped from the car with his head held high. He waited at the door until George drove away, at a much more sedate pace than he had used to deliver him. Mycroft sighed and wiped at his brow as he accessed the keypad, typing in the code that George had given him. _‘FUCKmyl1fe!’_ He shook his head in disbelief again before cautiously opening the door just as far as he needed to slip inside.

Surprisingly, the first aroma to assault his nostrils was not the scent of the unfortunate young man, but instead that of Gregory’s blood, the coppery brightness leading him to investigate the numerous spatters in the middle of the foyer. Mycroft closed the door behind him with a soft click, tilting his head at the reddish-brown smear on the wood. He paused for a moment, listening to the sounds coming from up above, the thudding smacks of his mate taking out his frustrations on the heavy bag in his study.

Mycroft took the cap off the spray can and misted it through the air, breathing in the enzymes with a sigh of relief. It did an admirable job of neutralising the remainders of the young Omega’s scent, making both his stomach and his knees a little less wobbly. There was a brief pause from up above, but then the sounds seemed to increase. Unsure of his next step, Mycroft decided to duck into the kitchen first, picking up the long-neglected bag of bacon sandwiches lying on the floor and stepping around the centre worktop to survey the remains of one of his drinking glasses scattered about.

With a soft sigh, he opened the cupboard under the sink and took out a small broom and dustpan, sweeping up as much of it as he was able. He turned to the rubbish bin and paused as he looked down at the photo album nestled among the eggshells and coffee grounds, his heart swelling with emotion. Mycroft’s hands shook, nearly spilling the glass shards back on the floor, but then he straightened his shoulders and dumped the mess into the bin, resolving to give his uncertainties of the night before not one more thought.

The grease-laden bag went on top of it all, and he took a moment to brace his hands against the worktop, his knees once again trembling shamefully. With a deep breath and a toss of his head, Mycroft went to face his distressed mate.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... Here we have the confrontation, of sorts.
> 
> Please read, please comment, loving every single second of this.
> 
> :) Kisses, all...

Standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking up gave Mycroft the oddest sense of vertigo, as they seemed to grow and expand under his gaze. He shook his head in the next moment, wincing as there was a low but expressive grunt from above, accompanied by another solid thwack. Grasping the handrail firmly, Mycroft made his shaky way upstairs and paused at the door to Gregory’s study. He made sure he wasn’t blocking his Alpha’s egress, standing slightly to the side to present as less of a threat.

He shivered with something more than just fear as he watched silently, his eyes caressing Gregory’s sweat-soaked and proudly nude body as he took his frustrations out on the inert mass of sand-filled canvas. Not for the first time, Mycroft found himself positively gobsmacked that he had been able to secure such a magnificent specimen for his mate. Every well-formed muscle stood out in stark relief as Gregory moved, a precise brutality apparent in every strike. His body was proverbial poetry in motion, something so beautiful and primal that it made his heart swell with pride and something else swell with desire.

Mycroft swallowed uneasily as he noted a haphazard bundle wrapped around Gregory’s left hand, tinged red with blood. There was a mangled roll of athletic tape at his feet, and Mycroft realised that he had most likely done what he could to staunch the wound himself in his somewhat dazed state. He bit his lip as he contemplated how to persuade Gregory to let him take a look at it, perhaps to get it cleaned and bandaged properly. He was so lost in his musings that it took him a moment to realise that Gregory had stopped moving, that he was simply standing there with his back to him, taking in breath in short, sharp huffs as the heavy bag swayed to a slow stop before him.

Mycroft blinked and moved as silently as he was able, reaching up to undo a couple of buttons on his shirt. His own breath caught as his mate turned on the spot, his nostrils flaring wildly. It was the well-loved face of his Alpha, yes, but somehow the great dark eyes in that face were not his Gregory’s. Even though they burned with a familiar hunger and need, they were oddly blank and withdrawn at the same time. He didn’t seem to recognise Mycroft, in fact, it didn’t even seem as though he saw _him_ at all.

Mycroft subconsciously took a shaky step back from the doorway, spurring Gregory into unwitting action. He kept his head down and gaze directed away as he tripped backwards, his own submissive instincts kicking in as he was advanced upon. Mycroft was pushed up against the opposite wall of the corridor, his shoulders hitting with substantial force and driving the breath from his chest with a low wheeze. He gasped as Gregory took hold of his hair with his bloodied fist, wrenching his head to the side.

Gregory snarled as he ran his nose up and down his neck, practically hyperventilating as he sucked in his scent greedily. He hissed with satisfaction as Mycroft whined quietly, licking at his skin and rubbing his cheek into him. “Omega... Mine...” Mycroft’s cock sprang into awareness at the low, possessive quality of his Alpha’s voice, little more than a guttural growl. He whimpered again and then yelped as there was a none-too-gentle bite at his ear, as he found himself being hoisted up against the wall.

He wrapped his legs around his mate’s waist and held on gamely as Gregory ground against him firmly, thrusting mindlessly and whining with impatience. Using the last bit of brainpower that he had left, Mycroft fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out the single-use packet of lube that Anthea had provided at his request, although much to his eternal embarrassment. Not that she would ever chide or tease him over such a thing, after all, she was an eminently practical woman. But still...

Gregory growled again as it was dangled in his face, and he snapped his teeth around it before releasing his hold on Mycroft’s bum, letting him slip back to his feet. He let out a grunt of surprise as he was immediately turned around and shoved back against the wall, but he did not protest. In fact, he tried to help as Gregory fumbled with his belt and zip, but at the sharp snarl of warning from behind him, Mycroft placed his hands back on the wall and held himself in silent readiness.

He spread his legs as much as he was able with the pool of fabric at his feet restricting him, letting out a quiet hiss as there was a fleeting caress at his most intimate of places. Gregory hummed low in his chest, a sound of heady anticipation that shivered straight down Mycroft’s spine and made his arsehole twitch hungrily. He tried to relax, knowing that it would be a great deal harder on him if he didn’t, but the uncertainty of how Gregory might treat him was proving too difficult to overcome.

His Alpha must have sensed this, and even though he seemed a little beyond the aid of actual language, he did what he could to soothe him, crooning softly in his ear as he dragged his slick cock up and down the crevice of his arse. He poked and prodded gently, withdrawing at every tense jerk of Mycroft’s body, waiting until his head drooped between his outstretched arms, until he shuddered and then went limp and pliant.

Gregory stroked him in gratitude, silently acknowledging the gift he was offering to him, running his hands up and down his back underneath his shirt. With a low growl, he pushed between his shoulder-blades, pressing Mycroft’s chest to the wall, and then tugged on his hips, tilting them back for easier access. Mycroft took in a deep breath as he felt the pressure of his Alpha’s cock at his entrance, letting it out slowly and bearing down as he was inexorably breached.

Gregory moaned as he sank in balls-deep, as he pressed up against Mycroft’s back and nuzzled into his hair, continuing to gulp in his scent. _“Mine.”_ Mycroft nodded wordlessly, holding his breath against the slight burning at his centre, willing himself to relax into his lover’s touch. Gregory let out a soft growl of approval as Mycroft bowed his back, sticking his arse out a bit higher in an overt invitation.

Gregory began to move behind him, slowly at first, as he didn’t seem to want to pull his nose very far away from his victim’s neck. He withdrew only a few inches with every stroke, rolling his hips as he pushed in deep. It didn’t take long for him to pull away slightly, to put a little room between their bodies so he had the space to truly begin to fuck him in earnest, strong thrusts that made Mycroft go up on his toes, whining quietly through his nose with each sharp jolt.

He felt Gregory gathering up the bottom hems of his shirt and jacket, balling them up in his fist and holding them up between his shoulder-blades so he could watch as he took his Omega as his due. Mycroft encouraged him with soft moans and low keening gasps, trying his best to ignore his own aching erection as it lurched awkwardly with each of Gregory’s sharp movements. He heard the tempo of his lover’s breath shifting in his ear, becoming more heated and almost pained and the quiet grunt that accompanied his release very nearly went unnoticed.

Mycroft was only aware of the quivering tension in Gregory’s legs where they were pressed up against his, the soft rush of heat deep within. There was but a moment’s pause, and then his Alpha resumed fucking him at a more measured pace, the extra slick making each slide of his glorious cock nearly frictionless. Mycroft beat one of his palms against the wall in frustration, but then Gregory’s hand shifted from his hip to his prick, and he almost sobbed with relief.

Once again, he was pressed close, so close, the heat of his body nearly making Mycroft swoon where he stood. He hummed low and nosed at his hair, making soft sounds of encouragement as Mycroft attempted a small thrust of his own. Gregory’s fist tightened around him as he gave into his need, rocking his body between his Alpha’s still-hard cock and his firm grip.

Hard, God yes, how could he still be so hard? So hard and so hot and _Christ_ but he smelled so good... His Alpha, yes, his. Mycroft braced his hands against the wall for leverage as he moved his hips in quick small jerks, steadily climbing his own peak, hovering at the edge for a long, agonising moment until there was a low growl from behind him and a sharp nip at his neck that sent him tumbling over with a wild cry.

Mycroft’s eyes rolled back as his body twitched wildly, as he released over Gregory’s hand and splattered the wall. He hadn’t even come down fully before his Alpha pulled free, gathering his limp form up into his arms and carrying him into the bedroom. His head reeled as he felt his clothing being pulled off, as he was pushed gently but insistently onto the bed.

“Wha?” Mycroft gasped incoherently as he was rolled over on his belly, making his weak protestations to the uncaring mattress. His arse-cheeks were abruptly pulled apart, and then oh - all of his reticence simply melted away as Gregory began to lap at him, his tongue wickedly sure in its task. Mycroft writhed at every hot, slithery touch, feeling his body opening even further as Gregory snuffled deeply into him, growling happily.

Mycroft wasn’t at all sure what Gregory’s intentions were, but he very swiftly determined that it didn’t matter. Whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, he would willingly give. Not the least because it was something that Gregory was clearly compelled to do, but also because it felt so damn _good_. Mycroft squirmed under his Alpha’s attentions, his own cock not quite hard again but taking a definite interest in the proceedings.

He gasped at the sudden loss of Gregory’s tongue as he pulled away, as he sat back on his heels. His hands were firm in their grip, however, his thumbs tugging on his entrance, holding him open. Mycroft whimpered as his hole twitched mournfully, and he chanced a look over his shoulder. Gregory’s eyes were fixed on his centre, seemingly hypnotised by the sight as he massaged and squeezed and tugged. Mycroft jerked his hips, and those dark eyes suddenly focused on his face, but there was still something vacant and lost in his gaze, something that made his chest constrict with worry.

But then Gregory smiled, slow and dangerous, his chin glistening with saliva and semen. Mycroft shuddered and let his head fall to the mattress, closing his eyes, giving himself over. The hands that had been clutching at his arse shifted, running up and over his hips, his ribcage. He felt Gregory shifting over him, clambering up over his legs, his stiff prick once again rubbing against his skin, leaving a cooling trail of pre-ejaculate behind.

Had he even softened after coming the first time? Mycroft couldn’t be sure, and now he found himself wondering if that could be a potential health issue. Who could he even bring him to in his current state? Mycroft knew better than to entertain the idea of calling a stranger in - that would just invite disaster. He almost laughed at himself in the next moment - thinking - always _over_ thinking things that truly required no thought at all. Now was a moment for instinct, for physical sensations and emotions, not logic. If Gregory seemed to be in distress later, it could be dealt with then.

But for now... Mycroft clutched at the bedsheet as Gregory’s knees settled on the mattress at the outside of his thighs, as his fingers spread his cheeks and his cock prodded at his entrance. He bit his lip at the inquisitive grunt from behind him, marvelling at his mate’s kindness and consideration, even while lost in a haze of conflicting hormones. Mycroft nodded, attempting to push his rump up against Gregory’s firm hold, but then he was gasping with delight as he was filled again, his Alpha’s cock throbbing deep within.

This time there was no hesitation as strong hands clamped down on his upper arms, holding him fast to the bed as he was fucked ruthlessly. Gregory’s breath washed over the back of his neck in hot, short pants as he hovered over him, driving high whining grunts out of Mycroft’s slack mouth with every decisive thrust. He was held utterly immobile as his Alpha used him, as he marked his territory, as he quite literally made him his bitch. Mycroft squirmed and writhed and moaned as much as he was able under his weight, causing Gregory to growl threateningly and nip at his neck.

Something more than the heat of his assailant’s body suddenly erupted over the small of Mycroft’s back, swiftly travelling up his spine in a welter of prickling gooseflesh. Without thinking, he pressed his forehead to the mattress, exposing the back of his neck. The snarl of triumph from behind him nearly made him come then and there, his cock having stiffened again. He squeezed his eyes shut as his Alpha’s frenzy increased, as he opened his mouth wide and then bit down hard.

Mycroft yelped loudly, a few tears escaping from his eyes as he wrenched one of his arms back, grabbing hold of Gregory’s hair and fisting it tight. He wasn’t even sure if he was trying to pull him off or pull him closer, but it wasn’t like it mattered anyway - he was completely at his Alpha’s mercy. Gregory snarled and shook his head as Mycroft whimpered pitifully, but there must have been something in his keening mewl that struck at his Alpha’s need, as he stiffened over him and came with a low whimper of his own.

Mycroft almost began to cry in earnest as Gregory withdrew with an unhappy whine, licking delicately at the abraded spot on his neck. There, it would be there, his bond-bite, and the bruise that was flowering even now was just a pale mockery, a trivial promise. But no, it wasn’t meaningless - it _wasn’t_. It would happen, Mycroft knew that. It was just a matter of time at this point, just a few days before his body would catch up with his Alpha’s, before he went into his last unbound heat. Then, the gland that was throbbing even now would be swollen and juicy, brimming with the chemicals necessary for a permanent bond.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a bit more of Mycroft dealing with his feral Alpha...
> 
> Please read, please comment - the muse demands tribute! (Ha!)
> 
> I adore you all! *mwah*!

In some ways, Mycroft was actually grateful for the unfortunate run-in with the potential rival, as it had seemed to provoke this pseudo-rut in Gregory, which would in turn trigger his heat to occur a bit earlier than expected. Ms. Jones had assured him of this as George had tended to the car, explaining that the intensity of their encounter tonight would dictate how quickly his body would go into heat. He just had to hold on for as long as he could, just hold on until Gregory exhausted himself. Mycroft’s lips twisted wryly as his head swam with lust and anxiety in equal measure. He had endured much more arduous trials over the years, after all...

He sighed quietly as his Alpha attempted to soothe him with low murmurs, his fingers rubbing gentle circles over where they had been clamped down tight over his arms, fluttering soft kisses across Mycroft’s upper back and up into his hair, returning time and time again to the throbbing bruise at the nape of his neck. Gregory nuzzled at it with nose and lips, his tongue darting out to lick at it, making Mycroft squirm with desperate need.

He hissed as he was turned over, his stiff cock bouncing up against his belly. He averted his eyes away from Gregory’s hungry gaze, as it was still lacking the usual warmth of his lover’s regard. Mycroft didn’t really have to look all that far away, though, as his Alpha’s eyes grazed greedily over his body, deftly avoiding his face in turn. He hummed low as he hovered over him, leaning down to nose at his throat, at the sharp angles of his clavicle. Mycroft’s body jerked as Gregory stuck out his tongue and ran it down his sternum, the fingers of his left hand playing with his nipple as the right tickled at his navel.

Mycroft bit his lip against the involuntary giggles that wanted to burst forth at every maddeningly soft touch, as his Alpha explored his body at his will, never mind how intimate he was with it already. His hips undulated slightly as Gregory’s torso dragged over his cock, mindlessly rubbing it against his sternum with a low moan. His Alpha glanced up at his face oh-so-briefly before propping himself up with both hands, tipping his head down to get a better view. Mycroft once again had to stifle his untoward amusement as Gregory seemed to have a bit of a staring contest with his fully erect prick.

Feeling enormously silly, Mycroft flexed his internal muscles, letting his laughter out as his cock bounced up and smacked him in the belly. Gregory seemed to chuckle as well before tilting his head and suddenly slithering down in the bed. His regard was focused entirely on Mycroft’s aching erection, watching with hot eyes as it once again flexed and dribbled out a measure of pre-come. He cooed and snarled under his breath before simply devouring his prize, humming deeply as Mycroft cursed and stiffened, his hands coming down to clutch at his sweat-dampened hair.

His Alpha sucked at him messily, making truly obscene noises of delight around the thick flesh trapped in his mouth as he let the spit run down his chin and over Mycroft’s bollocks. He cursed softly as he tried to move his hips, but all of Gregory’s previous attentions had sapped his strength quite handily. So he simply had to take whatever was doled out, his head thrashing at every slurp and smack, groaning loudly as his assailant feasted upon him.

It lacked anything like the usual grace and finesse that Gregory usually employed while pleasuring him orally, and Mycroft was embarrassingly pleased to determine that his Alpha was undoubtedly still using him as an instrument for his own desire. It was quite clear to him that his lover was not going down on him out of any sense of obligation, or reciprocity. He was doing it for no other reason than because he wanted to, which only served to fuel Mycroft’s sense of urgency. Even though his legs felt like little more than ungainly blocks of wood, he attempted to lift them, to spread them wide and grant easier access.

Gregory snarled around him, his throat vibrating dangerously and oh-so-divinely against the head of his cock, and Mycroft’s body jerked with the pleasure of it. His fingers started to cramp as they tightened in his Alpha’s hair, as waves of heat began to roll outward from his centre. With another low rumble from his chest, Gregory deep-throated him, shoving his nose into his pubic bone and shaking his head from side to side. Mycroft’s eyes rolled back as he started to come, his belly quivering in anticipation, but then his Alpha roughly shoved two fingers in deep, flicking at his prostate with unerring accuracy.

Mycroft’s mouth opened and he let out a warbling cry, something wild and sharp that sounded more like a mating call from deep in the tropical jungle than anything that could have come from a human’s vocal cords. Gregory hummed and snarled again as he pushed in deeper, fingers and throat working in tandem to milk his lover quite dry. He sucked and slurped and refused to let go even as Mycroft’s orgasm tipped from undeniable pleasure to almost unbearable discomfort. Mycroft hissed and whined and pushed at his head with shaky arms, but his Alpha kept his mouth locked firmly around him until at last he let out a sincere sob of pain.

Gregory let him slip from his lips with another small slurp, crooning softly as Mycroft’s body went limp, kissing at his inner thighs with delicate care. Mycroft simply quivered where he lay, his brain too overcome with sensation to fully register further motion down below. He was dimly aware of Gregory’s fingers sliding free from his loosened arsehole, a slow trickle of fluid following. God, he felt disgusting. The sweat cooling on his body made him shiver, and some part of him knew that a wipe-down was necessary, at the very, _very_ least, but he could barely even muster the will to move.

But then he was abruptly shoved back into awareness as his thighs were spread, as Gregory wriggled his way back up on his knees, pushing his legs up and out. Mycroft gathered just enough strength to lift his head to glance down and good Lord, he was _still_ hard... He grunted incoherently as his Alpha scooted closer, as his hips were lifted from the mattress. He just had to hold on, that was all. He didn’t have to _do_ anything, not really. He could hold on, he could endure.

Mycroft bit his lip as Gregory once again prodded at his arse with the tip of his cock, wincing slightly as he seemed to play with him, only pushing in a couple of inches before withdrawing. It wasn’t like he wasn’t plenty slick, what with the remnants of lube, spit and two loads worth of semen swirling around in there, but he was rather inflamed, and each stroke tugged rather unpleasantly at his swollen pucker.

Gregory grunted with impatience as his fingers scrabbled at Mycroft’s sweat-slick skin, as his toes pushed against the mattress ineffectively. It was clear that he wasn’t achieving the leverage that he was seeking, that they were both simply too slippery with their previous exertions, that Mycroft’s body was too unwieldy for him to position to his liking in their current arrangement. His Alpha growled deeply as he withdrew, letting Mycroft’s legs drop to the mattress as he stomped off in the direction of the bathroom.

Mycroft once again lay as if paralysed, simply unable to find any strength in his limbs. He found himself reluctantly hoping that it was done, that Gregory would seek to find release on his own, that perhaps they could simply rest together for a while. He turned his head to the side as his Alpha emerged from the bathroom, clutching at a piece of cloth that appeared to be one of Mycroft’s dirty vests from the laundry basket.

Gregory impatiently ran it down his own torso before reaching over to wipe down Mycroft’s legs, his belly. He took a moment to shove his nose into the bundle of fabric before scrubbing at his hands with it, growling faintly as he casually tossed it over his shoulder. Mycroft almost giggled as his eyes raked over him again, feeling utterly beyond reason. There was another threatening noise as Mycroft shut his eyes and shook his head weakly, but then he yelped as strong hands yanked at his body. Gregory snarled as he pulled him perpendicular on the bed, as he tugged on his unresisting limbs and positioned him so his arse was hanging over the side of the mattress.

His grip once again sure and solid, his feet planted firmly on the floor, Gregory hooked his hands under Mycroft’s knees and held him open as he aimed for his target rather ruthlessly. As before, there was little to no hesitation as he moved to take him, his hips pumping mechanically as he strove for his pleasure. Was it truly pleasure, though? Mycroft’s mind drifted as his body was callously used, watching with a distant gaze as Gregory’s face distorted under his efforts.

His Alpha was clearly seeking something, but what was it? He had already claimed his Omega two times this night, and Mycroft sincerely doubted that a third would really make a difference. He had scented him, had marked him thoroughly inside and out - what more could he possibly need? And could Mycroft even give him this thing, whatever it was? Whether physical or emotional, Gregory had to articulate his needs to him, and he was obviously beyond verbal communication at the moment. How could Mycroft break through to him?

And furthermore, he honestly didn’t think he _would_ be able to stand this much longer. He was too exhausted to barely even whimper any more, struggling to maintain steady breath as he was jolted and shoved and fucked mindlessly. He couldn’t...couldn’t _anything_ \- his body was simply numb, his mind buzzing with noisy static. His Alpha growled and shoved his legs down harder as he bent further over him, the heat of his body washing over his chest and making his senses reel. Snarling softly, Gregory began to worry at his neck with tiny, jarringly sharp nibbles.

God no, he couldn’t. He just _couldn’t_ any more. Mycroft bit his lip hard to bring a little clarity to his brain, remembering how he had managed to get through to him earlier in the week, when Gregory had been guarding that little girl’s body in a similar fugue state. His fingers twitched awkwardly as he attempted to move his arms, finding a low reserve of strength deep within. Laying one hand on the back of his Alpha’s neck and using the other to grip his shoulder, Mycroft turned his head and let out his breath on a soft sigh.

“Gregory...” His lips brushed his assailant’s ear as Gregory’s head twitched awkwardly at the sound of his name. “Gregory, please... _Please_ , my love. Come back to me.” He grunted as there was another hard push, whimpering quietly as the body laid over his began to slow in its frantic thrusting. “Please, my love, my Alpha. _Please._ ” Gregory’s hips pushed in deep as he moaned in his ear, and yes, there was another hot rush of fluid as his cock jumped and released. This time, however, Mycroft quite definitely felt his lover’s prick soften suddenly within him, wilting and slipping free almost immediately.

Gregory quivered for a moment before all the strength seemed to leave his body and he fell to his knees at the side of the bed. Mycroft let his legs dangle gracelessly as he stared blankly up at the ceiling, feeling the abrupt loss of his lover’s weight and taking in a refreshingly clear breath of air. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, the tension in the atmosphere settled down on his chest with an entirely different sense of weight, something much heavier and far less comfortable.

He struggled to sit up, pushing himself up with unbearably shaky arms. Gregory was kneeling in between his legs, his shoulders hunched inward as his gaze was fixed on the floor. He was utterly motionless, and Mycroft felt his heart lurch even as he reached out for him, running trembling fingers through his wet hair.

Gregory turned away from his touch, still avoiding his eyes. “How many?” His voice was rough and creaky, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

Mycroft frowned, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “How many what?”

He reeled slightly as Gregory looked up at him, his eyes tight and furious. “How many times did I _violate_ you?”

Mycroft was too stunned and too tired to properly analyse the tone of his voice, and he answered without thinking. “Three.”

Gregory’s face crumpled before he put it in his hands, rocking on his knees. “How could I? Why did you let me, why didn’t you stop me oh God...” Mycroft flailed awkwardly before gaining control of his limbs, sliding to his own knees, straddling Gregory’s thighs and pulling his hands away from his face. Tears began to well up in his eyes at the sight of his lover’s distress, those beautiful brown eyes rimmed red and swimming with anguish. “How can you stand to touch me, knowing what I’ve done to you - I’m horrible, I’m a monster oh God... Mycroft, why - _why_ did you...”

“Shh...” Mycroft soothed him as best he could, clutching at his lover’s head desperately as he buried his face in his sternum and sobbed. “No, Gregory, no. You are my love and my heart and you could _never_ hurt me. You aren’t a monster, you’re my mate, my Alpha.” He stroked Gregory’s back as the sobs began to peter off, pressing his lips to his temple as he rocked their bodies together. “You needed me, needed this - and it was my privilege to help you. Nothing that has happened tonight was without my honest and willing consent.”

Gregory wrapped his arms around his torso and squeezed him tight, huffing quietly as Mycroft squeaked almost imperceptibly. He lifted his head and looked up at him from under his lashes, soaked with tears. “You swear? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I do so swear.” Mycroft hesitated as he hummed vaguely. “And although I can say with some authority that there will be no lasting harm, I cannot say that I won’t be a bit stiff and sore for a while. But that’s quite all right, as it means that I can demand that you wait on me hand and foot for a day or two at the very least.”

Gregory let out a burst of giggles that quickly devolved into a fresh set of tears, and he rubbed his face into Mycroft’s chest. “I still don’t know how you can st-stand me after what I’ve d-done... I feel like I’m going _mad_ , how can you want a madman in your home - in your b-bed? What if it ha-happens again, oh God...”

Mycroft clung to his lover as he let out his fears in an unending flood, all kinds of horrific scenarios coming to light that - while truly improbable - were obviously causing his lover all manner of stress and anxiety, and had been for some time. He blinked incomprehensibly as he tried to process, but his brain was quickly overloaded with everything that was spilling from Gregory’s mouth, and he was rather surprised to feel his mouth opening in return.

He was even more shocked by what came out.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20... A bit thin, perhaps, but the muse has been fickle this week... I'm hoping for a better offering a bit later.
> 
> Please read, please comment to help me keep my spirits up and my muse amused. Or at least pacified... :)
> 
> *mwah*

“Marry me.”

Gregory’s voice petered out as his grip lessened, as he sat back to look Mycroft in the face incredulously. “Pardon?”

Mycroft felt the blood rush into his cheeks, but he nodded firmly. Yes, this was what he wanted, what he had wanted all along and had been too stubborn to acknowledge, even when Gregory had laid it all out so cleanly for him earlier in the week. But it had to be worded correctly this time, as a request rather than a demand. He wiped at Gregory’s face with his fingertips and smiled as reassuringly as possible, his throat threatening to close up at the hopeful light in his Alpha’s eyes.

“Gregory. Would you do me the honour of becoming not only my bond-mate, but my husband as well?”

He let out a quiet _‘oof’_ as he was enveloped in a wild embrace, as Gregory kissed him full on the lips for the first time that night. His lover’s exuberance tapered off into a quiet but fierce tenderness as they moved together, expressing themselves without words. He framed Mycroft’s face with both hands as he pulled away, leaning in for one, two, even more gentle kisses.

They both smiled through their tears. “Are you sure, love?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life, Gregory.”

“But your job...”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed. “Will be just fine.”

Gregory hiccoughed out a laugh. “Nobody messes with Mr. Holmes, eh?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them.” He preened silently as Gregory’s eyes warmed, crinkling with levity even as they searched his face intently. Mycroft cleared his throat a trifle uneasily. “I feel compelled to point out that you haven’t actually answered my query, my dear.”

Gregory suddenly grinned, easy and carefree, and Mycroft felt his insides wobble with relief. “And just what was the question again?”

Mycroft gasped in mock outrage before striving to compose himself, wriggling against his lover’s knees and draping his arms over his shoulders. “Gregory Thomas Lestrade... I wish to be your partner in this life, in name and in deed. I wish to stand next to you before our loved ones and proclaim our bond in every sense of the word. Legally, physically, spiritually. I wish to belong to you and have you belong to me in turn.” He gave him a little shake, grinning wryly at the fond twist of Gregory’s lips. “Will you marry me, you damn fool?”

“Well, when you put it that way...” Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes, letting out another embarrassing squeak as he was pulled close. Gregory rubbed their noses together and smiled against his lips. “Yes, Mycroft Sherrinford Vernet Holmes, I will marry you.” They kissed again, just a simple press of their mouths, both of them striving to maintain the somewhat fragile sense of peace that had descended over the room. Mycroft whined quietly as he shifted uncomfortably on his knees, making Gregory’s face cloud over with concern. “Should we celebrate with a long soak, my love? Get you nice and clean, maybe help ease out some of that stiffness?”

Mycroft winced as he shifted again, sliding off of Gregory’s thighs and planting his bum right on the floor as he stretched out his legs. “I think that a shower might be a more prudent option, unless you want to risk us simply falling asleep in the tub.” He sighed as he reached for his lover’s left hand and began picking away at the bloodied tape. “But first...”

Greg blinked rapidly at his own hand, wincing as his fingers twitched. “Oh.”

Mycroft tilted his head as he peered down at Gregory’s palm, frowning faintly to see beyond the smears of dried blood. “I need better light.” He showed his teeth briefly at his Alpha’s confused look. “Do you even remember doing this?”

Greg shook his head. “Not...not exactly? There was someone...” Mycroft swallowed uneasily as his lover’s dark eyes went vague and distant. “Smelled good.” He hissed with sudden pain as Mycroft’s fingers reflexively closed down around his hand. He shook it off as his Omega blanched and opened his mouth to apologise. “S’alright, love. I know it’s not easy for you to hear. But I really don’t remember much. I think I yelled.” Greg twiddled his fingers. “Obviously broke something.”

“A drinking glass.”

“That would explain this mess, yeah.” Greg gently extracted his hand and stared at it himself, giving the wound a good poke and hissing again. “Shit. There might be something still in there.”

He looked up as Mycroft held a hand out to him, blinking in surprise at finding him standing, albeit on somewhat wobbly legs. “If you’ll just step into my office...”

Greg spluttered out a sharp laugh as he struggled to his feet with Mycroft’s help, his own knees shaking alarmingly. “Christ, but I feel like I’ve run a marathon or something equally as ridiculous.”

They tottered off to the bathroom together. “You more or less have, my love.” Mycroft started ticking off fingers. “First you took me up against the wall, then you carried me in here and had your way with me yet _again_ before sucking me off, and then you delivered one more solid hard fuck for good measure.” They both stopped in the doorway to survey the wreckage, looking down at the laundry basket lying on its side, thoroughly disemboweled. Mycroft creakily bent over to snag a pair of pants that were sitting on the top of the pile, holding them up so the streak of dried come was easily visible. “And you apparently had to take matters into your own hands once before I even arrived home.” He rooted out a vest with a similar mark. “Or perhaps twice.”

“Holy God. It’s all such a blur.” Greg frowned as Mycroft bent over again to right the fallen laundry basket, catching sight of the discolouration at the back of his neck. “Wait. Did... Did I do that to you?” His frown deepened as his lover put a hand to his neck as if to hide it, as he continued to pick up the scattered laundry as if he hadn’t heard him. “Mycroft. Answer me.”

Mycroft straightened up and glanced at him somewhat testily before stepping in front of the sink, removing his hand and tilting his head in an attempt to look at it in the mirror. He caught Gregory’s eyes, biting his lip at the sorrow reflected on his face before shrugging. “You are the only one that I would willingly bare my neck to, my love.” He took in a sharp breath as Gregory stepped up behind him, snaking his arms around his waist and holding him tight. His lover hid his face against Mycroft’s shoulder, shaking his head. “My Alpha. Of course you did this to me.”

Greg sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Mycroft. I am _so_ sorry that I hurt you.”

Mycroft smiled softly as his lover sheepishly peeked up at him in the mirror, his dark eyes once again damp and red around the edges. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me properly, Gregory. I willingly offered, because I _wanted_ your mark on me. You simply took me up that offer.” He shivered as his lover shifted behind him, pressing fluttering kisses on his shoulder and moving up to the abraded spot, gently dragging his lips over it in tribute. Mycroft shuddered as his head dropped forward, almost of its own free will. “God, yes. You... _ungh._ You did a beautiful job, my love.”

Greg hummed low as he pressed their bodies closer together, swaying gently. “I suppose... I suppose I can look at it as a sort of a test run, hm? In a couple of weeks, that bite will be permanent, not just a rather shocking bruise.” He prodded at it with his nose, backing away as Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

Mycroft scowled faintly at him in the mirror. “Well, I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt, exactly. Especially if you keep poking at - oh my God, would you _stop_ that?”

Greg dissolved into helpless giggles as he once again tucked his face into Mycroft’s spine, the both of them rocking with laughter and struggling to keep on their feet. “Sorry, love. Sorry, sorry...”

“Gregory, you ridiculous man. Here.” Mycroft cleared his throat and pushed against him gently, shoving them both away from the sink so he could rummage underneath. His lover didn’t exactly release him or let him get too far, hovering uncertainly nearby. He snugged up close again as Mycroft pulled out a first aid kit and a torch. Greg lifted an eyebrow as the torch was passed over a divinely freckled shoulder, but he obediently took hold with his uninjured hand and flicked it on.

He hissed quietly as Mycroft took his left hand in both of his and washed it clean, his fingers sure in their task, but also exceedingly gentle. Greg watched over his shoulder as Mycroft laid out his supplies, swiping an antiseptic wipe over the approximately inch-long wound and also over a pair of rather frighteningly pointy tweezers. He took in a deep breath and flattened his hand as his impromptu surgeon spread the edges of the cut, as Greg held the torch up and directed the light as needed.

He bit his lip and tried to hold back on his pitiful whimpers, his fingers twitching as they both caught sight of a little glimmer in the pink folds. Greg squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his mouth against Mycroft’s skin as he set his shoulders in determination and began to probe for the tiny piece of glass with the tweezers. He winced silently as the light wavered, as his lover let out a muffled curse against his flesh. But the task was soon done, and they both peered down as Mycroft turned his hand one way and then the other, wiping away the small trickle of fresh blood as he inspected the damage.

He carefully wrapped the piece of glass in a tissue before setting it aside, lifting Gregory’s hand to his mouth and kissing it delicately. “All better?”

Greg flexed his hand into a fist and squinted as it began to leak again. “Well, at least it doesn’t feel like there’s anything else in there.”

Mycroft laughed softly before once again pushing him away and in the direction of the shower. “I’ll wrap it up once we’re clean. Come now.”

Greg followed willingly, kicking aside the few articles of clothing that were still scattered about. Damn, but he’d made a right mess of the place, hadn’t he? Maybe after he put Mycroft to bed, he’d slip out and clean it all up. His head was still muddled and his limbs leaden, but there was a lingering jitteriness at his core that he couldn’t quite shake. Maybe doing something - anything - would help. Greg bit his lip as he tried to imagine what might be waiting for him downstairs, as small slivers of memory flashed through his brain.

He was startled out of his musings as Mycroft touched him, gently bringing him back to the present as he pulled him close under the pleasantly hot water. He smiled a little sadly as he ran his fingers over his lover’s brow, trying to smooth out the wrinkles as he practically read his mind. “It’ll keep, my love. You need sleep.”

Greg reluctantly nodded and tilted his head back under the spray, luxuriating in his Omega’s attentions as he scrubbed him clean. “We both do.” He cleared his throat as he held up his wounded hand. “Was there any other damage? Did I hurt or...um...attack anybody?” Greg sighed as Mycroft tilted his head in a sham of innocence. “There was an Omega. That’s what set me off, wasn’t it?” He closed his eyes and forced himself to think about it, really delving into his fuzzy remembrances. “I can see...eyes. Green, they were so green... A young man.” He took the flannel from his Omega’s unresisting hand and began to soap him up before looking into his face seriously. “What happened to him?”

Mycroft’s fingers twitched against his thighs. “He’s being taken care of.”

Greg blinked. “Um. You do realise how ominous that sounded, right?”

Mycroft cracked a tiny smile. “Well, I can hardly say that nothing untoward is happening to him at the moment, but he is at least safe. He’s in a completely beta-run facility being tended to with the utmost care.” He lifted a hand to caress Gregory’s cheek, nodding as he let out a gusty sigh of relief. “You managed to warn George before completely losing yourself, and he got Marcus out before anything happened. You didn’t even touch him, my love.”

“Marcus.” Greg’s eyes narrowed in thought. “He reminded you of you, didn’t he?”

Mycroft inclined his head gracefully, wincing slightly as Gregory took the opportunity to run the cloth over the back of his neck. “Yes, of course. Although I cannot deny that I wish it hadn’t happened here, in our home, in some ways I’m rather glad that it did - for his sake. Had he first presented with any other Alpha, he would have found himself in an extremely dire situation.”

Greg averted his gaze, taking a tiny step away from his lover. “I dunno. I nearly...”

Mycroft’s eyes suddenly flashed, fierce and proud. “But you _didn’t_ _._ You held yourself back, even though your current state of mind is somewhat unstable. Do you even know how extraordinary that makes you? Your strength is an endless fascination to me, my love.” Greg blinked as his lover raised a hand and poked him in the forehead before laying his palm over his heart. “This. This is so strong, and so _good_ and I honestly don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you but by damn I am going to take what Fortune has seen fit to grant me and I am going to hold on tight and never _ever_ let you go.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, ten whole days... Sorry for the delay, but for some reason I was having a really difficult time focusing. Most of this chapter was written last night and in the time I could snatch away today. I hope it suffices.
> 
> Please read, please comment. Muse is being contentious, obviously. Little tart.
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies!

_“Mycroft.”_ Greg felt a swift welter of heat race up his spine to explode in his chest, making his heart trip erratically. He reached out to cradle his lover’s face in both hands, his thumbs running up his high cheekbones. “I... I don’t even know what to say to that.”

His Omega smiled softly, his eyes tearing up slightly. “Oh, I think you’ll find that you do, my Alpha.”

Greg stepped closer, closing his eyes as he ran his nose alongside his lover’s, gently dragging his closed mouth over his parted lips. They breathed together for a long moment, until Mycroft whined with need and desperation. “I love you, my Omega. Oh, but I love you so very, _very_  much.”

Mycroft whimpered again as Gregory took his mouth, his firm lips moving against his with such fierce devotion that it made him quite light-headed. They held each other up as best they could as the passion swept through them, leaving them panting in its wake. “Gregory... My love, my Alpha.” Mycroft grinned sheepishly as his lover pulled away to look him in the eyes, wiping his hair back from his face as the shower drenched the both of them. “My fiancé.”

Greg’s laugh bounced around the tiled cubicle as he swept his Omega up into an embrace and carefully swung him around in the confined space. “Fiancé, oh my God, we’re engaged!” Mycroft yelped quietly as he shook his head, leaning on the strength of his Alpha to keep him upright. His grey eyes twinkled as Greg bit his lip. “Sherlock’s gonna be impossible - probably has it all planned out already.”

“Of the pack of miscreants that reside at Baker Street, I do believe that Mrs. Hudson will be the more difficult to restrain with regards to matrimonial planning. I imagine that John will make himself as scarce as possible and that Sherlock will simply toss himself down on the nearest horizontal surface to bemoan the fact that I’m taking the plunge before he gets the chance to.”

Greg hummed as he rocked their bodies together. “I think that once the announcement is made, he’ll most likely drag John off to the nearest registrar just to eke in ahead of you.”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Well, I shall just have to make a few calls to ensure that doesn’t happen, shan’t I?”

Greg laughed again, smacking his lover’s bottom lightly as he shook his head. “Always a contest with you two.” He shivered slightly and reached out to turn off the water that had gone a bit chilly as they had splashed around together. “Maybe we should just avoid the drama and go for a joint ceremony.”

“No!” Mycroft’s eyes went even squintier as he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “I refuse. Sherlock can be a dear boy when he wants something, but most of the time he acts contentious and contrary simply to delight in being a pain in my backside. I will not tolerate such behaviour on a day that is meant to celebrate the love and the bond that we share.”

Greg sighed as he wrapped a plush towel around Mycroft’s shoulders, gently rubbing him dry. “It was just an offhand remark, my love.” He leant in for a peck on his lover’s nose as he swaddled his head in the towel, ruffling at his hair until he saw the barest hint of a smile on his lips far back in the fluffy depths. “I don’t want to share that day with anyone else either. It’ll just be you and me standing up there. I promise.”

Mycroft blinked somewhat owlishly as the towel was removed, nodding faintly at his lover’s earnest expression. It faded into another easy grin as Gregory shook his head in amusement. “Only just engaged, and you’re already a Bridezilla.”

Mycroft’s mouth dropped open in outrage, but he didn’t get the chance to express it. His Alpha practically guffawed at him as he darted in to lay soft pecks on nose and cheeks and chin, humming quietly as Mycroft’s eyes went heavy-lidded, as he licked his lips in anticipation. Greg didn’t wait to be offered twice, reaching up with both hands to cradle Mycroft’s face.

“Bugger!”

Mycroft found himself blinking again as Gregory abruptly retreated, holding his injured and freshly bloodied hand away from the towel that was slung over his arm. Mycroft frowned mightily and reached out to tug it free, holding his hand out in a mute demand. Gregory looked at him helplessly. “It’ll ruin it.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and stepped close, deliberately pressing the towel to the wound. “There does exist such a thing as bleach, Gregory. And if that does not do the job properly, it will hardly break the household budget to purchase one new towel.” He tugged him gently toward the sink, where he carefully laid out some fresh supplies. Working quickly but efficiently, Mycroft once again disinfected the small but deep cut, applying a couple of steri-strips to hold the edges together before bandaging it securely.

“There.” His grey eyes twinkled as he pressed a kiss to the gauze, looking into dark eyes that had gone a little dopey with love. “All better?”

“Much.” Gregory continued with his interrupted purpose, cupping Mycroft’s face and bringing him in for a sweet kiss. He frowned slightly as his Omega shivered, immediately sweeping him out of the bathroom and toward the bed. Mycroft slid under the covers gratefully, watching with a furrowed brow as Gregory moved restlessly around the room, picking up the random articles of clothing that were scattered about.

He chuckled faintly as his lover held up the suit jacket that he had worn home, tilting his head inquisitively. Mycroft sighed at the sight of the less than superb fabric. “I was a trifle low of options, unfortunately. I could hardly come home drenched in that boy’s scent _or_ stark naked.” He shook his head as Gregory leered. “Beast. Oh, but if you happen to find the trousers... My mobile.”

“Ah.” Gregory dutifully sniffed them out, digging into the pockets and pulling out Mycroft’s phone. He handed it over with a little kiss before disappearing into the bathroom with his burdens. Mycroft fidgeted a little uneasily while he was out of his sight, feeling oddly bereft that he wasn’t directly at his side. He sighed quietly and started composing a brief text.

“What are you doing?”

Mycroft started and nearly dropped his phone as he looked up in surprise. Gregory was standing next to the bed, although ‘looming’ was perhaps a more apt descriptor. He swallowed and cleared his throat, attempting to suppress the thrill of fear and desire that had zinged through his core at the rough quality of Gregory’s voice.

“Um. Merely texting George. He was concerned for my safety, and if I do not make contact within twelve hours, he _will_ come to check on me.”

“No.” Mycroft blinked rapidly as Gregory growled quietly, shifting his stance so that he was standing between him and the door. “Mine.” He spread his legs and squared his shoulders, bending slightly at the knee and looking for all the world like a bull ready to charge. Even his hair seemed to bristle slightly at the mere implication that another man would dare to encroach on his territory.

Mycroft’s stomach did a slow roll as his spine locked. “ _Nghk_ _._ No, my dear. No other man here. I am yours, I swear.” He held up his phone cautiously and chose his words carefully, keeping them as simple as possible. “This is to keep them away.”

Gregory’s deeply intense stare shifted from Mycroft’s face to his phone several times. He finally nodded somewhat forcefully, immediately starting to pace at the foot of the bed as Mycroft sent off a terse if not entirely truthful, _‘Situation normal’_ _._ He carefully put his phone in its charging cradle and pushed it as far from him as possible, focusing all of his attention on his mate.

Despite the confirmation of their bond via his unexpected proposal and their lighthearted and easy banter over the last hour or so, Gregory was still clearly deep in the throes of his ailment. It wouldn’t take much to set him off on another rampage, but whether it would be violence or lust, it was impossible to tell. Especially since one tended to bleed into the other upon occasion... Mycroft bit his lip as he realised that he would have to find a way to tap into the more nurturing side of his Alpha’s personality.

His own physiology happily made that decision for him, his empty stomach gurgling its displeasure out into the forced silence of the atmosphere. Gregory stopped in his pacing and tilted his head as he waited for the source of the noise to make itself apparent. Mycroft clutched at his belly as it spoke up again, glancing up at his Alpha’s face as his eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t eat.”

“I had more pressing matters to attend to.” Gregory huffed loudly as he turned and started stalking to the door. Mycroft immediately let out a tiny whimper that had the effect he was seeking, making his lover turn back to him abruptly. He swiftly crawled to the end of the bed and held out his arms as a needy child might. “No, Gregory, please. Please don’t leave me alone.”

“But...” Greg dithered for a moment between the bed and the door. “You need food.”

“I need _you_ , my Alpha.” Mycroft whimpered again, shivering slightly as the cool air of the room washed over his naked body. “Please.” He must have put on the properly pleading tone, as Gregory instantly came to him, folding him into his warm embrace. Mycroft sighed happily as he tucked his cheek into his lover’s chest and played idly with the hair there. “I promise you that I will eat every morsel that you set in front of me. Tomorrow.” He wrapped one arm around Gregory’s waist and rocked their bodies together gently. “Please, my love. I need you here, with me.”

Gregory growled faintly, clearly still displeased about Mycroft’s complaining tummy. He pulled away slightly and narrowed his eyes as his Omega whined, pinching his chin in thumb and forefinger and using the pressure to push him back into kneeling on the bed. “Stay.”

Mycroft vibrated with impatience and then tilted his head as Gregory disappeared behind the screen hiding the kitchenette. He nodded glumly as his Alpha returned, holding up a yoghurt and one of those dreadful sports drinks. Mycroft took the snack with a bit of a petulant air, but surprised himself by consuming it rather rapidly. He belched behind his hand as he looked up at Gregory sheepishly. “Thank you.”

Gregory growled and pulled him in for a fierce kiss, breaking free only to run his nose along his jaw and behind his ear. “My pleasure. _Uhn_ _._ Love taking care of you.”

“I’m cold, my Alpha. Come warm me up?” Mycroft willed his body to give a minute shiver, smiling internally as it complied. “Please.” He whined again as Gregory huffed in his ear, pushing him back down in the bed. He clambered over him and curled himself around him tight before pulling the covers up around the both of them.

Mycroft sighed and tucked his head onto his chest, wriggling into Gregory’s considerable heat. He blinked languidly as he realised that the body he was moulding himself to was still tense and watchful, clearly on high alert for hidden dangers. He pushed himself up on his elbow and looked into Gregory’s face, tracing the frown on his lips with one finger.

Gregory tilted his head and looked at him, puzzled. “Will you be able to sleep, my love?”

His Alpha shook his head curtly. “Don’t know. Don’t think so. Can’t make my head shut up.”

Mycroft bit his lip and looked at him from underneath his lashes, trailing his hand down his body. “I think I may be able to muffle the noise, help you to sleep.” He smiled sharply as Gregory shifted, his legs spreading slightly as his prick twitched under his fingers. “If you like.”

Gregory growled quietly and shook his head, his features twisted in some form of exquisite agony. “My-Mycroft... You d-don’t have to...”

Mycroft slid a bit further down in the bed, eyeing his prize hungrily. “And if I wish to please my Alpha?” He slithered in between Gregory’s legs, running his hands up and down his thighs as he breathed in his heady aroma, nuzzling at his sternum. “Would you deny me, my love?”

“Hff. Never... _ngh_.” Mycroft smiled again as Gregory’s body trembled with the tension of holding himself back. He hummed as his Alpha’s head fell down into the pillows in surrender, as he undulated his body against the mattress. “Do what you will.”

Mycroft hummed again and wriggled down onto his belly, burrowing under the covers. He quickly set to rubbing as much of his face over Gregory’s nethers as he was able, making quite a show of not only enjoying himself tremendously, but also ensuring that his Alpha’s scent was smeared over cheeks and chin and nose, hoping to soothe his mate’s inner possessive beast by letting himself be marked. Gregory groaned from somewhere up above, but Mycroft closed his eyes and simply let instinct take over, losing himself in the overwhelming bliss that was worshipping his lover’s cock and pleasuring him in the process.

Said cock was extremely grateful for the attention, as it stiffened almost immediately and began to dribble out a steady stream of pre-ejaculate for Mycroft to enjoy. He lapped at it and licked his lips, moaning low in his chest as he wriggled his tongue beneath Gregory’s foreskin, mouthing at the pleasing roundness of the crown underneath. So hard and so hot, oh yes.

He let out a muffled yelp as Gregory’s hips suddenly jerked hard, driving his cock deeper into his mouth. He pulled off and coughed discreetly as his Alpha patted his head, apologising silently and a bit awkwardly. Mycroft cleared his throat as he settled down again, wrapping one hand around the shaft as a precaution. While he had been training himself to take his lover’s cock further into his throat with fewer unfortunate side effects, this wasn’t exactly the same weapon that Gregory usually wielded.

It wasn’t the formidable member that it was during his full rut, of course, but it was considerably thicker than usual and oh yes, harder. Mycroft let the saliva building up in his mouth dribble out as he began to suck and stroke, feeling the impending eruption building in the solid body underneath his. He was therefore prepared for the broad hand that had been caressing his neck to tighten almost painfully, and he obediently held himself still as Gregory took his mouth in quick, shallow thrusts, dragging the head of his prick over Mycroft’s soft palate in a desperate bid for friction.

Mycroft took in a deep breath from his nose and hummed as deeply as he was able, feeling an inordinate amount of satisfaction as Gregory cursed quietly. He braced himself as the thick flesh trapped in his mouth and his fist twitched abruptly, going just that much harder before it began to spurt against his tongue, down his throat. Mycroft moaned thickly as Gregory’s harsh grip on his neck slackened, as his hand drifted over his shoulder in a fleeting caress. He slithered up onto his knees as he carefully removed his hand, pulling off and taking in a harsh breath before slowly and deliberately pushing his mouth down as far as it would go.

Gregory’s body twitched awkwardly, but the long groan of satisfaction from up above was Mycroft’s greatest prize. He carefully licked at his Alpha’s cock as it softened, avoiding the sensitive head as much as possible. After nuzzling into it for a while longer, relishing how his lover’s scent had been enhanced by his sweat and his desire, Mycroft lifted his head and looked up into a face that was slack and carefree. Gregory’s eyes were closed, and his chest was moving up and down with steady respiration.

 _Success_. Mycroft’s victory dance occurred entirely within his head as he moved very, very slowly to turn off the bedside lamp. He settled back down at Gregory’s side and pulled up the covers, once again turning his face into the warmth and comfort of his Alpha.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real struggle this week... Not sure what the hell's going on with me, but I'm desperately hoping that I can pull out of it soon! 
> 
> Please read, please comment! I adore you all...
> 
> *mwah*

Mycroft winced as his eyes cracked open, dragging a heavy hand over his face to block out the unbearably cheery sunlight. Good God, but he felt horrid. Gregory chuckled softly next to him, and Mycroft blinked at him somewhat groggily, deducing that he had been awake for some time, but had been content to simply remain by his side. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his head abruptly reeled, making his stomach jump uncomfortably.

Gregory tutted quietly as he pushed him back into the pillows, propping himself up on his arm and helpfully blocking out some of the light that was assaulting Mycroft’s senses. He clutched at both head and stomach, frowning mightily. “I feel... _urgh_.”

“Probably something to do with going to bed without anything in your belly. You just need to eat.”

Mycroft shook his head slowly, wincing as it once again spun. “No, this feels...” His eyes went wide as he looked up into Gregory’s placid expression. “Feels like the onset of my heat.”

“Mm.” His Alpha bent down and nosed behind his ear, blowing a hot breath over his neck. “Smells like it too. Been building ever since very _very_ early this morning. It’s been torture keeping my hands off you.” He ran the palm of his hand down Mycroft’s torso and over his belly. “Smell so ripe.”

 _“Nghk.”_ Mycroft’s body responded rather predictably, and Gregory’s head perked as the bedsheet covering him tented slightly. “Gregory, I...”

His Alpha growled. “Oh yes, my sweet Omega. In a bit. You still need a proper meal. I’ll bring it to you.”

Mycroft groaned as he curled up into himself, his hopeful erection wilting abruptly. “ _Blargh_. I don’t think...”

Greg hummed sympathetically as he ran his fingers through Mycroft’s hair. He hunkered over him briefly, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Something light. Some dry toast, maybe a little fruit. Please, love. Please try for me.” His Omega muttered something unintelligible into his sternum, and Greg smiled briefly before gently pulling Mycroft’s head back by his hair. “I’ve an idea.” He slid a little further down in the bed and tucked his lover’s face into the crook of his neck, wincing as he whimpered pitifully. “Give me a little sniff, love.”

Mycroft whined again before dutifully obeying his Alpha’s edict, taking in a short breath through his nose. “Oh!” Gregory huffed a warm breath over his cheek as Mycroft’s hand came up to clasp him by the back of his head, pulling him in tighter. He took in a great gulping breath, inhaling as much of his lover’s scent as he could. “Ohhh...”

Greg chuckled softly. “That’s right. Just breathe me in.” He silently congratulated himself as his Omega’s body relaxed, his limbs straightening as he pressed closer. “Just like the first time, yeah?”

Mycroft hummed quietly. “Better. Oh, Gregory...” His voice was slightly slurred, as though drunk. “Oh, you smell sooo _good_.”

Greg cursed quietly as he angled his groin away from the enticing heat of his Omega’s body. As lovely as it would be to simply frot against his beautifully compliant form, he was quite determined to feed him up a bit first. Mycroft’s heat would break soon, perhaps even before the day was out, and Greg needed him healthy. Especially since they would be bonding this go ‘round. A not entirely unexpected swirl of nerves bloomed deep in his belly at the thought.

He’d read a few accounts of bonding via the A/O website as a sort of preparation, but there was simply no way to predict what would happen. Although relatively few in number, there had been stories of bond expulsion posted as well, heartbreaking tales that lingered at the forefront of Greg’s anxiety-ridden mind. In each case, it was a bond that both parties had wanted desperately, but for some unknown reason, their bodies had rejected the chemicals that their partners had produced. Such a reaction usually resulted in the unfortunate couple becoming violently ill, requiring hospitalisation even deep in the throes of their heat or rut. After recovery, if they even did recover, they had to stay away from each other to prevent another possible outbreak.

Greg shook his head to clear it of negative thoughts as he attempted to gently extract himself from Mycroft’s suddenly octopus-like form. He chuckled quietly as he slid out from one shapely leg only to have a long arm wrap around his waist instead. He looked down into his Omega’s brightly-flushed and not at all apologetic face and tilted his head meaningfully. Mycroft bit his lip as he untangled himself from around his Alpha, pulling his mouth down into a pout.

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

Greg leant down and kissed the tip of his nose, laughing as Mycroft went a bit cross-eyed. “I'm just popping downstairs, you silly creature. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at the most.”

Mycroft conceded with a grumpy little huff, turning his back to his Alpha and pulling the covers over his head. Gregory patted him sympathetically, and clambered over him as gently as possible to exit the bed. Mycroft poked his nose out as he heard his shuffling steps, watching his lover’s naked backside heading for the bedroom door. “At least put on some slippers, you fool. There might still be broken glass down there.”

Greg heaved out a sigh and turned to drop a saucy wink. “I’ll be fine, love.” He turned back to continue on his way only to stop dead as something lightweight thwacked him in the small of the back. He whirled around to catch Mycroft aiming with his left slipper, the right one already lying on the floor at his feet. He let fly with it just as Greg lifted a warning finger, abruptly disappearing back under the covers with a sharp giggle. It of course fell a bit short of its brother, but Greg just nodded in resignation and went to retrieve it, shoving it onto his foot. The slippers were a bit big on him, and he flapped his way to the door in an exaggerated manner, making sure that Mycroft knew he had acceded to his demand.

He closed the door behind him and headed down the corridor, his body feeling oddly light. He still had worries, yeah, and Greg knew that if he allowed his mind to dwell on them that the anxiety would come back in full force. But it was easier now for him not to focus on it, to instead keep his mind on the task at hand, namely, feeding up his mate. His own stomach rumbled unhappily as he pulled out the supplies and tried to recall the last time that he had eaten.

It had been early yesterday. Two pieces of toast along with a whole pot of coffee - hardly the most filling repast. No wonder his stomach felt a bit concave. He nibbled on a piece of cheese as he set the bacon to frying, intent on mixing up an omelet for himself. Bacon, cheese and oh - fresh spinach. How lovely. Greg hummed quietly to himself as he worked, making up a tray with toast, fruit, cottage cheese and a whole pot of Mycroft’s favourite tea in addition to his barely-healthy omelet. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the container with the remains of the chicken that he had roasted a couple of days prior. Even if he couldn't convince his Omega to have any today, it would make a tasty snack for either of them later. Greg was fairly sure that neither of them would make it back downstairs for a few days at the very least.

Taking a moment to breathe, Greg shuffled around the inside perimeter of the house to ensure that windows were closed and doors locked, staring at the smear of blood that he had left on the wood of the front door. He chewed his lip as he looked at the reddish-brown splatters on the floor, finally determining that it was about as ground in as it was going to get, so there was no harm in leaving it be for the moment. As he went to retrieve the breakfast tray, something crunched underneath the heel of his right foot. He lifted it cautiously and narrowed his eyes at the shard of glass that had been broken into three new pieces.

Greg sighed heavily as he bent and carefully picked them up, dumping them into the rubbish bin. After all, it wasn't like he had to tell Mycroft that he had been right. Carefully balancing the tray, he slowly made his way down the corridor and nudged the door open with his foot. Mycroft was sitting up amongst the pillows, and he hastily hid something under the covers as he looked up somewhat guiltily.

Greg grimaced to himself, immediately realising why his lover was looking so abashed at being caught with his mobile. He really truly hadn’t meant to go all über-Alpha possessive on him the night before, but just the idea of him talking to another man had tipped him over a rather wobbly line. He honestly had no excuse, and Greg didn't think that a simple apology would really suffice, so he just tried to smooth things over instead.

“Texting Anthea to let her know you won’t be in next week?” He put on his most placid expression and mildest voice as he set the tray over Mycroft’s lap. “Good idea, love. I should do the same - or at least check in with Sal on that case.”

Mycroft blinked as he brought his phone out from under the covers, deliberately placing it on the bedside table and reaching for a piece of toast. “It can wait until after breakfast.”

Greg smiled encouragingly and leant over to kiss his cheek as he reached for his own plate. “Thank you, Mycroft.”

Mycroft waved the toast. “No, my dear - thank you.” He took a bite and chewed somewhat contentedly. “You were quite right to insist on this.” His eyes lit up a bit at the smell of the tea wafting up from the pot, and he poured himself a generous measure before taking a healthy draught. “Oh, but you’re an angel.”

Greg snorted and offered him a bite of his perhaps overly-cheesy omelet, but Mycroft demurred, his nose wrinkling as he went a bit green. His Alpha looked him over carefully, taking in the bright spots of colour high on his cheeks, his vaguely glassy eyes. Mycroft leant into him as Greg reached out, perhaps reading his intention in his face, as he obligingly ducked his forehead into the back of his lover’s hand. Greg hummed quietly as he ran his palm down and cupped Mycroft’s cheek. “Nowhere near as high as it was the first time, thank God. You had me quite concerned for a while there.”

Mycroft smiled shyly. “No, nothing like it. I'm still not well, obviously, but the symptoms have never been this mild before. Must be your pheromones.”

“Seems I'm not so useless after all.” Greg quickly held his hands up in surrender as Mycroft opened his mouth to protest. “Joking, love. Just a joke. Finish your tea, please.” He quickly polished off his own breakfast before beginning to pick at the slices of apple that Mycroft had mostly left alone. His Omega settled back uneasily with half a piece of toast uneaten, as well as a couple of spoonfuls of cottage cheese. Greg dutifully finished it off and drained the dregs of the teapot, winking at Mycroft as he rubbed lightly at his stomach. “You gonna be able to hold onto that, or do I need to fetch a pail?”

Mycroft grimaced at Gregory’s cheeky grin, cautiously shaking his head. “I don’t anticipate...that, no. The food actually did make it feel better. I’m just...” He twirled his hand around his head vaguely. “Spinny.” He pushed at the covers as Greg lifted the tray, sliding down a bit further in the bed. “And hot.”

“I’ll say you are.” Mycroft quirked one eyebrow at his lover’s inappropriate leer before simply closing both eyes and shaking his head. “Just the fever. It’ll probably cycle up and down a few times.”

Mycroft whimpered quietly. “My eyes are burning.”

Greg tutted sympathetically and ducked into the bathroom to rinse a flannel in cool water. He dabbed it over Mycroft’s cheeks before folding it lengthwise and laying it over his lover’s eyes. He bent down to kiss his forehead before whisking the tray over to the kitchenette. Greg exchanged the chicken for a couple of bottles of water in the fridge, bringing them back to the bed.

Mycroft grumbled to himself as Greg put one of the bottles on his bedside table with a little thunk. “Oh for God’s sake, would you _stop_ faffing about? Get back into bed this instant.”

He lifted one corner of his impromptu blindfold and glared ineffectively as his Alpha chuckled at him. “Well, aren't you just the cranky little bastard this morning?”

Mycroft pouted. “I miss you.”

“I'm right here, silly Omega.” Greg winked as he turned and pulled the blackout curtains closest to Mycroft’s side of the bed shut.

“Oh. Oh, well...never mind.” Mycroft waved a hand languidly as he sighed in bliss. “Do carry on.”  

Greg shook his head and laughed again, a wave of contentment sweeping through him as he prepared the room for the onset of his mate’s heat, shutting all of the outside world out. Once all the curtains had been pulled and the sconces were turned down to half-strength, he came back to bed to find Mycroft hiding under the covers, his shrouded form shivering gently.

Tutting quietly, Greg slipped into the darkness with him and hummed low as Mycroft instantly pressed close, his nose seeking out the hollow of his throat. He laid back as his Omega straddled his waist, breathing him in eagerly until his trembling subsided and he let out a happy little sigh. Mycroft settled in atop him, laying his fevered cheek on his chest, mumbling mindlessly into his sternum. Greg ran his fingers through his lover’s damp hair, closing his eyes and completely failing to fall asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, I have a feeling my lovelies aren't going to like where I ended this chapter, but... Eep! It's coming - I promise you it is absolutely going to happen soon! (Unless my muse takes me waaaaay the hell off track.) ((Which she has been known to do.))
> 
> Please read, please comment, please keep the muse fat and happy! 
> 
> I adore you all!!!!
> 
> *mwah*

After at least fifteen minutes of slow, steady breathing and repetitive mind exercises, Greg sighed quietly before shrugging internally and simply giving up on the idea. What with Mycroft being so close to his heat, he should have known better than to think sleep was actually an option. He shifted slightly underneath the dead weight of his Omega’s body, gently but persistently guiding him until Mycroft was curled up on his side next to him rather than sprawled atop.

Greg slithered up into a seated position against the headboard and reached for the book of the week, the second in an extensive series that he had been lent by Dimmock. The main protagonist was a private investigator operating out of Chicago, who also happened to be a wizard. Mycroft had of course rolled his eyes hard enough to sprain something when Greg had explained the premise to him, but so far he had found the stories to be a simple if pleasant read and amusing enough to help relieve some of his stresses.

Greg smiled faintly as Mycroft wriggled closer, pillowing his head on his thigh as he threw an arm around his knees. Greg patted the round shape of his head over the covers, idly wondering how he was even managing to breathe under there. But then, hiding his perceived weaknesses away seemed to be Mycroft’s most reliable defensive mechanism, whether due to physical illness or emotional insecurity. Greg sighed to himself. It wasn't like he was any better, really.

Even though he hadn't known that there was a specific name for his ailment, he had quite definitely known that something was very wrong long before he started his research. He should have talked to Mycroft well before now, should have let him help. But he had been too stubborn to even admit to needing help in the first place, too afraid of what it could mean.

Well, no longer. Once this week was through, he and Mycroft would be bound to each other. They would be able to sense when something wasn't right with their mate, be able to experience how they felt and thought. It wasn't like mind-reading, nothing that detailed. But there would be an undeniable connection, an invisible thread tying them to each other. At least, that was how the stories posted on the A/O site had read, even as the individual narrators had insisted that it was quite impossible to describe adequately.

To feel your chosen partner deep within you, to have their presence accompanying you always... Oh. Mycroft grumbled as Greg shuddered pleasantly, somehow managing to pull himself even tighter into his Alpha’s body. The poor thing had been aching for this for so long that he must be quite beside himself with excitement. But then, the fever and dizziness had tamped that down rather efficiently, hadn't it?

Oddly enough, Greg himself felt far more calm than he had been in weeks, a distinct feeling of serenity sinking into his bones even as his body geared itself up for its rut. This was right, it was the way it should be, and there would be no more room for doubt or uncertainty. It was going to happen, it was going to work, and that was all there was to it.

Settling back down and opening his book, Greg let himself get lost in a world of arcane magic and rather rudimentary detective work. At first he was extremely aware of every twitch of the long body draped partially over his, keeping his ears open for the tiniest whimper. Most of the noises and movements were obviously related to Mycroft’s dreams, and not so much the result of the heat that his body was slowly adjusting itself to. Since he seemed to be weathering the symptoms as best as he was able, Greg let his attention shift fully to his novel, finding himself getting pulled deeper into the narrative. After all, he _had_ always felt a certain kinship with werewolves...

He blinked himself back into the real world some unknown interval of time later, acutely aware of a rather achy bladder. Greg set his book down to stretch and froze as he suddenly realised that Mycroft had somehow managed to wriggle all the way in between his legs, and that he was now lying on his belly with his nose pressed firmly into his crotch. The first thought was _‘how’_ , but then _‘why’_ popped in there and was immediately discarded. Greg knew why - because his Omega found his scent soothing, and that was a spot quite literally drenched in his pheromones. Mycroft had simply migrated toward the thing that would help to relieve some of his symptoms.

 _‘How do I get out of this’_ was bandied about before _‘oh no you bastard don’t you dare’_ as the thick flesh trapped underneath one elegant cheekbone gave a hopeful jerk. Greg lifted the covers and cursed silently as a heavy, hot wave of scent smacked him in the face, as he involuntarily sucked it in greedily. Oh fuck, but the two of them together was too potent to ignore, especially since the aroma had been stewing for goodness knows how long. _Hngh._

His prick was quite beyond reason now, well on its way to becoming fully hard. It definitely did not help when Mycroft began to rub against it sleepily, his breath puffing out over it between delightfully reddened lips. Greg groaned, his fingers combing through the damp strands of hair at the back of his Omega’s head, feeling for the promising lump at the nape of his neck. Mycroft hissed and then moaned as Greg caressed it, attempting to gauge how far away his heat was by the swelling.

The skin there was smooth and thin over the soft mass, but the gland wasn't fully engorged. So not just yet, but soon, very soon indeed. Greg groaned again as Mycroft mewled, writhing against him and the mattress in the dark cave under the covers. He grasped at his Omega’s hair firmly, a single shudder rocketing down his spine as Mycroft subsided obediently, only a slight quiver betraying him.

Greg took in a deep breath before cautiously untangling himself, sliding down to press a brief kiss to a heated brow. “Bathroom break, my sweet.” He waited for Mycroft’s half-aware if petulant nod before releasing him and slipping off the bed, pressing a hand firmly to his prick to keep it from whacking him in the belly as he walked. Greg practically crouched over the toilet as he pissed, keeping firm hold to keep from making an unholy mess. He moaned quietly as he relieved himself, shaking his head to clear it of the odd zing of pleasure tingling at the root of his now fully florid cock.

He couldn't shake that scent though, the smell of the two of them combined. It was deeply ingrained in his nostrils, taking firm hold in his brain and making his skin come alive with anticipation. The sense-memory of hot, bittersweet chocolate overlaid by sharp, musky spice flooded his taste buds, making his mouth water. Greg shuddered again as he flushed the toilet and went to wash his hands, wincing as the underside of his erection made contact with the cool surface of the marble countertop. He supposed he could attempt a quick wank, but that would hardly be fair to his loving mate.

Greg looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, smiling rakishly before rolling his eyes at his own ridiculousness. It wouldn't kill him to ignore his beast of a cock just this once, and it wasn't like the damn thing was going to be at all neglected in the days to come. So he let it flap around as it bloody well liked as he strode back out into the bedroom, taking note of Mycroft sitting at the edge of the mattress and blearily fiddling with his mobile.

Ah, right. Greg hadn't put in his own ‘request’ yet - must get that in before his brain got too muddled. He smiled as Mycroft tossed his device down and simply held his arms out to him. He bent down to press his lips to flushed skin before running his fingers through dampened red hair. “How’s your head, love?”

Mycroft shrugged listlessly. “Sleep helped. I think.” He grinned suddenly and pulled Greg in close, looking up at him saucily as he pressed his lips to the head of his cock.

Greg’s body jerked before he pulled away. “ _Nghk_. Not yet, you little tart.”

“Oh, but Gregory...” Mycroft put on his most beguiling pout and attempted his most sultry voice, even though his throat was clearly a bit scratchy. “It’s not like we’re incapable outside of heat - we've proven that a number of times already.”

Greg chuckled softly. “This is true. However, you still aren't entirely well. I’d feel terribly guilty if you happened to get sick while I was fucking you, and I really, really would prefer you not choke and vomit on my cock.” He ran his thumbs over his Omega’s high cheekbones, wiping at the sheen of sweat beading up. “We have time.”

Mycroft’s pout deepened as he looked at his Alpha’s cock longingly. “It seems like such a waste...”

“Trust me, my sweet Omega. Not one inch of this will go to waste.” Greg frowned as Mycroft swayed slightly under his touch. “Maybe we should cool you down a bit.” He smiled encouragingly as his Omega blinked up at him owlishly. “Just a little shower to rinse off some of this muck? Hm?”

“Oh but Gregory...” Mycroft reached out to caress him, boldly combing his fingers through the thick thatch of curls surrounding his cock. He inhaled deeply as he brought his hand back to his nose, blithely ignoring the harsh jerk of Greg’s body and the loud curse that followed. “Oh. But I _like_ you mucky.” He moaned low as his Alpha’s scent hit his brain, sending waves of contentment rolling through him as his body quaked. “Oh yes...”   

“Christ, but you... _Unf_.” Mycroft smirked as Greg stepped further away, shaking himself visibly. “You horrible, awful, wonderful man.” He abruptly stepped back and took hold of Mycroft’s arms, hauling him to his feet. “Devil. Fine. _Fine_ \- I surrender. I give up!” He sealed their mouths together and kissed his Omega fiercely, chuckling softly as Mycroft moaned and his knees wobbled. Greg held him upright and snogged him utterly stupid, grinding his cock up against his leg. “My Omega, my dirty little slut.”

“Yes, Gregory. Oh _yes..._ ”

Greg pulled away slightly. “But before we both get too distracted...” He tilted his head as Mycroft rolled his eyes. “First - I have to put in my request for the additional time. And you should probably have a little bathroom break of your own, don’t you think?”

“Yes, _Dad_.”

Greg’s eyebrows shot up at Mycroft’s smarmy little grin and ingratiating tone of voice and he raised a warning finger. “Don’t tempt me, _Junior_. You know I’d have you across my knees in a flash.”

Mycroft whimpered quietly as his legs threatened to give out on him again, holding onto his Alpha’s sturdy shoulders for support. “Yes, Gregory.”

“Better.” Greg turned him toward the bathroom and gave his arse a resounding smack. “Get on with you, then.”

Mycroft squealed and rubbed petulantly at his pinkened arse-cheek as he shuffled off uncertainly. Greg grinned at his own foolishness, the excitement and anticipation making him feel quite giddy. He practically danced his way back to his side of the bed, pulling out his laptop and turning it on. He took a moment while it was booting to straighten out the bedding, fluffing the pillows and hopefully making it a bit more appealing to his mate. Not that such a paltry thing really made a difference in the way that Mycroft felt about him, but still. He could hardly help his courting instincts, even if the courting was nearly obsolete at this point.

Greg signed into his email as quickly as possible, his fingers fumbling as he heard running water in the bathroom. There was an official form that was required whenever he had taken time off specifically for this purpose, which Greg felt was horribly intrusive, but then, what else could you expect from bureaucracy? He filled it out and sent it along to the official channels and copied Donovan. Not that she really needed all that detail, and she’d probably tease the hell out of him for it, but it was the most expedient way of alerting her to his upcoming absence.

Greg shook his head and chuckled quietly as he realised that he’d most likely be coming back to a huge congratulatory banner hanging over his desk and colourful ribbons strewn about or some other nonsense. Yup - he was certainly in for an endless round of good-natured cheekiness from his team. Not that he could be arsed to care, of course. And he knew that if he asked them to stop, they would. They were a good crew that way.

Greg skimmed his eyes over the subject lines of some of his unopened emails, trying to determine if any of them were worth his time. Sally had sent him something that just had a case number listed, and he clicked on it somewhat reluctantly. It was the little girl’s case, of course, and Greg knew that if he didn't check it out now, it would niggle at his memory until he gave in. He read through it quickly and then simply stared at the words as they swam in front of his eyes, a swift welter of heat gathering in his chest and radiating through his arms. His hands clenched into fists as his brain tried to process, his thoughts slamming up against a wall of sheer impotent rage.

He sensed Mycroft’s presence as he hovered uncertainly nearby, and he tried to pull himself out of the whirlpool in his head, tried to focus on his lover and not on - that. But of course the harder he fought, the tenser he became, and the maelstrom steadily continued to grow into something enormous and unyielding, a screaming, swirling black monster shot through with streaks of red. Still he clenched his teeth and tried to hold on, for his sake and for his mate’s sake, tried to keep hold of Gregory Lestrade, but the bleak anger kept growing and expanding...

He barely heard Mycroft’s soft intake of breath close to his ear, the pounding of his heart and his rushing blood overriding the sound. He wasn't entirely aware of his laptop being closed and set aside, blinking rapidly as his knees were spread and a lithe form slipped in between his thighs. He did feel cold hands running gently through his hair, and could smell something bittersweet and yet comforting on the edge of his senses. Greg didn't resist as he was pushed down into the mattress, his muscles still held tense and aching.

He blinked up at the ceiling as someone took hold of his left fist, barely registering the gentle press of soft lips on each knuckle before long fingers began to pry it open. They unfurled reluctantly, even though Greg tried to relax them, tried to shake them loose. He dimly noted the touch of warm skin under his palm, and his fingers closed down reflexively. He heard a slight hiss of pain, but again, none of it seemed to make sense. Then his right hand received the same treatment, gentle but persistent coaxing that managed to get his fist straightened out into something less fraught with danger.

Greg slowly became aware of a weight settling down over him, a pleasant aura of heat against his groin. His body reacted before he did, and he pushed upward, mindlessly grinding into whoever was sitting on him. There was a soft grunt, a low moan, and then hands, oh yes, cool and sure, travelling up his body to his face. They cupped his cheeks and there was movement above, a shifting of weight and suddenly there was a lovely face looking down on him, beautiful grey eyes pinched with worry. But he still didn't know, still couldn't understand...

Mycroft leant down further, putting their foreheads together and sharing breath as he whispered, “Gregory.” Mycroft whimpered quietly as his Alpha shuddered violently, a raspy grunt pushing through his lips. But he felt his heart trip into double-time as Gregory’s face seemed to slip even further into that horridly blank mask, as his eyes turned ever more inward. “No... Nonono...not now, not now, please Gregory, _please..._ ” Mycroft felt the hot tears running down his face as he rubbed their cheeks together, as he pressed trembling lips to a mouth that was hanging slack and unresponsive. “Come back to me, my love, my Alpha. Please come back.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, yay! Sorry for leaving you all in the lurch last week. It just was not happening for whatever reason. But I think I've made up for it!
> 
> Please do read and comment, let me know how I'm doing!
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies...

Mycroft swallowed hard and willed his voice to come out with authority, but it cracked on the last syllable of Gregory’s full name, and he began to weep openly as he hunkered down over his Alpha’s tightly-held body. He briefly entertained the idea of going into Gregory’s laptop to see what may have set him off, but he was simply too overwrought. Mycroft knew that there was no way he’d be able to take anything in until he had managed to bring his Alpha back to him. He let his tears flow as he pressed as much of his skin to his lover’s torso as he could, rubbing their cheeks together and trailing his fingers over his face as he whispered his name over and over.

Greg was unable to hear anything but the swirling maelstrom, the pounding of his heart making the blood rush madly in his ears. He crouched down in the eye of the storm in his head, squeezing his eyes closed tight as he covered his ears, trying to shut it all out. He succeeded somewhat in toning it down, turning it into a muffled roar rather than an outright cacophony. Cautiously opening his eyes and looking down at the blank space between his knees, Greg licked his lips and was surprised to taste salt.

Was he crying? Wincing against the influx of sound, he put his hands to his cheeks and found them dry. No, it wasn’t him. He thoroughly licked his lips again, drawing his tongue into his mouth to analyse the taste. Quite definitely tears, as that particular tang of the ocean was all too easy to recognise. But there was something else there, some underlying essence... Greg growled to himself as his body jolted, a low tingle of arousal blooming at the base of his spine.

Omega. He shook himself, fighting to retain his sense. Not just any Omega - _his_ Omega. His mate, soon to be his Bonded. His Mycroft. And he was clearly distressed, almost to the point of anguish. Why? Greg clenched his fists, his muscles locking almost painfully against the anger flooding his belly. If anyone had harmed him... But no. They had already sequestered themselves away in preparation for heat. There was no-one who possibly could have harmed him, unless it were - oh.

Greg lifted his head and looked into the swirling mass of black-grey-red that surrounded him. Unless it were himself. He had clearly gone into another fugue, leaving his mate to deal with a potentially dangerous situation all on his own. He came up out of his crouch slowly, eyeing the tempestuous barrier between his mind and his physical form warily. If he had hurt Mycroft... Well, he would simply have to walk away, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t risk it happening again. Not ever.

But he obviously couldn’t make that decision from in here... Picking a spot on the horizon to focus on, Greg briskly stepped out of the calm and into the storm, his shoulders set with determination.

Mycroft’s sobs had petered out into quiet whimpering moans, his whole body feeling heavy with the overabundance of emotion. He kept himself draped over his Alpha’s body, needing to feel his warmth, desperate to breathe in his scent. He lost all sense of time as he laid there, occasionally whispering his lover’s name against his slack lips, imploring that he return to him.

He was beginning to drift off into a fitful sleep when there was a sudden tremor in the solid body underneath his, making Mycroft sit up in surprise. He watched warily as Gregory’s large dark eyes blinked slowly, a dim awareness glimmering in the depths. His Alpha’s muscles tensed and released in swift jerks all across his torso and in the thighs that Mycroft was perched upon, twitching against his bottom.

A slow wave of relief washed over him as Gregory’s regard sharpened, as mobility and expression returned to his face, as his hands cautiously swept up Mycroft’s tense thighs. Gregory licked his lips and attempted to smile, his voice coming out creakily.

“My-Mycroft... Did... Did I hurt...you?”

Mycroft swiftly shook his head as a new bout of tears began to leak from his eyes. “No. No, my love, you could never hurt me. No.” He ducked down for a trembling kiss as his Alpha’s face flooded with relief, as his faint smile turned into something huge and genuine. “I may have been a little frightened...”

Greg sighed deeply, taking in air heavy with his Omega’s scent. Still anxious, yes, but nowhere near as bitter with worry as it had been earlier. “I am sorry, love. So sorry. I was thinking that I was feeling better, but I’m obviously still not well.” He slid his arms around Mycroft’s torso, feeling the chill of his skin with a sympathetic shiver. “How long was I out?”

“Far too long.” Mycroft hummed his approval as Gregory rolled them over without comment, as he manhandled him back into the pillows and pulled the covers up over the both of them. He sighed quietly as his Alpha chafed his limbs and rubbed his back, warming him back into some semblance of living flesh. “Oh, but I missed you.”

Greg apologised as best he could with kisses and nuzzles, reverently running his hands all over his Omega’s beautiful body. “If I could take it back, I would. After this is done, I’ll never leave you like that again. I swear to you, Mycroft.”

Mycroft clasped his hands around Gregory’s face, smiling up at him brightly. “I know, my Alpha. I know.” He lowered his gaze briefly. “May I ask...”

Greg shook his head curtly. “I’d best not, my sweet. I shouldn't dwell on it. You can read it for yourself, though.” He shifted in the bed, intent on retrieving his laptop, but Mycroft’s legs abruptly tightened around his waist. He looked down on him in surprise, but his Omega just shook his head and held his arms out to him somewhat shyly. “Oh, love.”

Mycroft sighed happily as his Alpha’s weight settled down over him, as his warmth began to permeate his body. He wrapped himself in Gregory’s strength and security, feeling the beating of his heart against his sternum as though it were his own. Soon, so very soon. But not yet, and the prospect of his mate drawing away from him at this moment was simply too crushing for him to bear.

He would of course attempt to decipher what had distressed Gregory to such an extent, but later. In fact, it seemed perhaps not too much later as his Alpha’s body went a bit limp, his solid weight settling down on him a bit more heavily. Gregory grunted and rolled off to the side, smiling at him a little hazily as Mycroft blinked at him serenely.

“Sorry, love - I think...” Greg suddenly yawned, his jaw creaking against the strain. “I think I might need a bit of a snooze.”

“I don’t doubt it, my Alpha. The entire time you were away, your body was incredibly tense. I imagine that takes a lot out of you.” Mycroft reached out to run his fingers over Gregory’s brow in slow side-to-side swipes, a gesture that had been unfairly used against him many times. Gregory rolled his eyes and huffed out a mildly amused chortle as he realised his dirty trick was being turned back on him. Mycroft showed his teeth in jesting defiance, his touch light but sure. “Sleep. _I_ will watch over _you_ for once.”

Something warm flashed deep in his Alpha’s eyes, something that smoothed out the wrinkles in his brow and lit up his features, making him seem a decade younger at least. Mycroft gasped quietly as Gregory’s scent spiked, a heady wave of warm spice washing over him. He could practically feel the love radiating out of his mate’s centre, reaching out to pull him closer. He obeyed, pressing a gentle kiss to a bristly cheek.

Gregory blinked languidly as he lifted a hand, running the backs of his fingers down Mycroft’s neck. “My...” He let out his breath on a weary sigh as his eyes slipped shut. “Mine.”

Mycroft hummed low and nuzzled into his Alpha’s hair as he started to snore quietly, keeping up the motions of his fingers until he was quite sure he was out. “Yes. Yours.”

He didn’t know how long he laid there, his own body still cycling through random flashes of heat and subsequent shivering as the sweat on his skin dried. But Mycroft was quite determined to look after his Alpha the way he said he would, carefully watching every minute expression of Gregory’s lovely face as he slept. He almost laughed at himself once or twice, frankly astounded at the remarkable level of intimacy that existed between them. Never had he believed that he was capable of such a thing, and to find it here, in this man...

Mycroft’s curiosity got the better of him after a while, and he cast a glance over his shoulder at the laptop lying innocently on the floor in between the wall and the bed. He bit his lip as he calculated the reach in his head, still hesitant not to have as much of his body plastered to Gregory’s as possible. Really, it was childish. He was right here, and quite dead to the world. Neither of them would suffer for a mere ten seconds of non-contact...

Foolish man. Mycroft shook his head and slowly turned over, inching over the bed until he was able to snake an arm out from under the covers. He grunted quietly and stretched as best as he was able, but in attempting to keep at least one foot in contact with Gregory’s leg was hindering him, unsurprisingly. Why did he have to buy such a blasted big bed?

Bracing himself for his arduous task, Mycroft took in a deep breath and reluctantly slithered farther away from his Alpha’s warmth, an unpleasant shudder overtaking him. But then he had his prize in hand, and he swiftly dragged it back into his lair, once again tucking himself close to Gregory’s side. He took in his scent with a relieved sigh, bolstering his strength. He wasn’t looking forward to this little piece of detective work, even though it was necessary that he understand what had driven Gregory to retreat like he had.

And Gregory had clearly indicated that he wanted him to know, so... Mycroft opened the machine, watching with a sense of foreboding as it woke itself into functioning. The email that had set his Alpha off was still up on the screen, and Mycroft skimmed it quickly, going back for a thorough re-read as he tilted his head quizzically. Well then.

Miss Donovan had informed Gregory that the biological samples had come back from testing, and that their initial suspicions had been correct. It _had_ been the girl’s elder brother who had gone mad and had violated her trust and her body in the basest way imaginable. But when they had gone to take the boy into charge, it was only to discover that he had taken his own life some time in the night. He had left no note, not that one was really necessary.

Mycroft blinked rapidly as he processed this information. Why had that bit of knowledge triggered a fugue in his lover? Didn’t that actually make things easier? They knew absolutely who the villain was; he had admitted as much through his cowardly actions, and had also paid for his crime. Now there would be no potential court case, no media circus. The family would be left alone to deal with the tragedy amongst themselves, to attempt to heal from it. Not that the odds were entirely in their favour - this sort of thing tended to rip families apart quite handily.

Still. The case was closed - over and done with as far as law enforcement was concerned. So why had Gregory reacted in such a manner? Mycroft closed his eyes and thought of what he knew of his lover, of his quirks and his mannerisms. He was a man of easy jest and simple pleasures, but also one with a firm moral centre, with a distinct sense of right and wrong. He lived his life based on a certain set of rules, rules that had been imparted to him through his choice of a career. He believed in law and order, and he had absolute faith that justice would serve.

Ah. _Justice_. That was the key concept, wasn’t it? Mycroft sighed as he opened his eyes and looked down at Gregory’s face, at the tiny frown on one corner of his lips. The boy may have paid for his violent act of betrayal, but he had not atoned for it. He had not received the full measure of the punishment that the law and that Gregory himself believed was his due. He had instead circumvented it, had taken the coward’s way out. He had taken pills in order to fall asleep and simply never wake again; a far more peaceful death than the one that had been afforded to his sister at his hands.

Yes, Mycroft understood now how that could have sent his Alpha into an unreasoning rage, understood why he had retreated into his own mind. As distressed as he had been over Gregory's withdrawal, he was actually grateful that his lover had slipped into a fugue rather than venting that anger on whatever was to hand. Indeed, it was probably his protective instincts that had pushed his body toward immobility rather than violence. He once again pondered how remarkable a man his Gregory was, and how lucky he was to have secured him as his mate.

Mycroft dithered momentarily before closing that particular email chain, shunting it off to a folder marked ‘current cases’. That way it would not be the first thing that Gregory saw when he next checked in on his work. He almost wished that he could delete it completely, the emails, the case, the vile act that had started it all. But of course he could not reach into Gregory’s mind to pluck out all the nasty details, no matter how much he wanted to. As unfortunate as it all had been, it had led them here, to this point.

Mycroft closed the laptop with a decisive click, quickly sliding far enough away to deposit it safely back on the floor. He returned to Gregory’s side with a little smile, once again shivering against the fever-sweat drying on his cheeks and brow. He tucked himself back under the covers and resumed his careful watch, breathing in his Alpha’s scent, letting it soothe him through his intermittent shudders.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks, oh goodness... I wonder if any of you are still around... *sniff*
> 
> Hee! I am truly sorry that I've made you wait this long, it just was not manifesting for some reason. But we're here again, and the action is about to begin. So hang on tight, and please do let me know what you think. 
> 
> (I may even have another chapter for you later this week, but I can't promise anything!)
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies!

After a while, Mycroft felt himself growing inexplicably restless. He wasn’t at all bored - he had found observing Gregory’s unguarded expressions to be truly enthralling, no matter how minute they were. But his legs kept shifting under the covers almost against his will, and he couldn’t settle into a position that didn’t result in him squirming against the mattress after a moment or two. He rather imagined that it had to do with his impending heat, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this antsy before.

But then, this wasn’t going to be like all the other heats, was it? Although Mycroft had made no bones about expressing his own desire to bond with Gregory at conceivably every opportunity that had presented itself, in truth he had been perfectly content to wait upon his Alpha’s wishes. After all, he was The Iceman - precise, calculating and as patient as a viper waiting to strike, especially when his quarry was so near.

But now that the moment had nearly arrived, he unexpectedly found himself waging an internal war with his inner child, a happy, giddy thing that was threatening to burst out into giggles and perhaps start jumping on the bed for nothing more but the sheer joy of it. Mycroft clapped a hand over his mouth as he looked up at the ceiling, swiftly realising that if he gave into that strange impulse, not only would he likely trample Gregory underfoot, but that he would undoubtedly crack his skull on the plaster as well.

His toes twitched with restrained merriment, and he knew there was nothing for it but to try and walk it off, especially if he were to leave his impending mate to his well-deserved slumber. Having lain next to him for an extended period of rest had left Mycroft with less of a need to remain plastered to his side, but he still leant over to take in a healthy draught of his scent to carry with him as he slipped from the bed. He smoothed his hands down his body before shaking the worst of the fidgets out of his fingers, flicking them away from himself erratically.

Mycroft paced at the foot of the bed, moving slowly and deliberately as he listened to Gregory’s steady breathing. His body was cycling through another fever, hopefully the last, and he shivered slightly in the cool of the room as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Hm. Perhaps he should shower, as Gregory had suggested earlier. He turned toward the bathroom only to turn back again almost immediately. There didn’t seem to be much point to that notion - he would only be getting mucky again later.

He growled quietly to himself as his body made another slow rotation. But that would be later, and there was no reason to abandon _all_ decorum, you damn fool. Mycroft grumpily stamped a foot in a fit of pique as the conflicting opinions in his head started to squabble at each other. They fell away into silence as his lower belly twinged uncomfortably, the skin there pulled taut against the pressure of the slick that was waiting in reserve.

His head twitched toward the bed as Gregory shifted atop it, coming to rest flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the light, the other spread over Mycroft’s empty spot. He bit his lip as his Alpha frowned in his sleep, obviously expecting to have encountered a warm body instead of an expanse of cooling mattress. But he didn’t stir from his rest, and Mycroft slowly let out the wary breath that he hadn’t even been aware of holding in. He caressed his stomach thoughtfully as it grumbled at him, nodding decisively.

A shower could wait. Sustenance could not. Taking a moment to feed himself would surely earn Gregory’s favour, after all. Not that he was overly worried about falling out of it in the first place... Mycroft shook his head impatiently. He was rapidly losing focus, another indication that his heat was all but upon him. He stuck his hand into the mini-fridge and pulled out whatever was closest to hand, which turned out to be a blueberry yoghurt and one of those wretched sports drinks.

Sighing unhappily at the prospect of this being the extent of his diet to come over the next week, he dutifully ripped the foil top off and consumed it methodically and rather joylessly. Picking up the bottle of electric green liquid, Mycroft grimaced and decided to switch it out for a nice ‘fruity’ red instead. Back to digging in the fridge, he felt a swift if rather fanciful thrill upon seeing the container of leftover chicken stuffed into the bottom shelf.

Gregory must have brought it in with their breakfast earlier, and had stashed it away for later. Mycroft clutched it to his chest as he debated. Surely his Alpha had intended to share, and in less than a day, anything like solid food would be too much for him to handle anyway. Might as well take in a little protein while his stomach could still handle it...

Mycroft popped the lid and took a sliver of the cold meat in his fingers, nibbling at it delicately, finding it to be still as tender and as tasty as it had been the night Gregory had cooked it for him. Just the memory of that night filled something deeper in him, satisfied more than the impatient rumblings of his belly. He knew that it was more or less insignificant in the grander scope of their shared life to come, but it had demonstrated to him just how easily they fit together. Even the simplest and most mundane of evenings could be enchanting as long as his Alpha was there by his side.

He ducked his head around the concealing screen as there was a noise from the direction of the bed, but it was just Gregory shifting about in his sleep again, rolling sluggishly onto his side. Mycroft blinked as one of his pillows was snagged and dragged down into his Alpha’s embrace, as he heard a softly muttered moan and witnessed a distinct twitch of hips. And after that, well, he felt something tight in his lower spine start to unwind, although it stopped frustratingly short of loosening completely.

He continued to watch as he absentmindedly consumed the rest of the chicken with delicate if purposeful bites, squirming against his own burgeoning desire as Gregory continued to make quiet but utterly delightful noises in his sleep. No wonder Mycroft tended to wake fully aroused so many mornings, if his ears had been deluged with _that_ glorious nonsense all night long... He shivered as Gregory burrowed deeper into his pillow, snuffling and nuzzling at the remnants of his scent on the fabric.

His mouth watered as his Alpha’s hips rolled against nothing, knowing instinctively what he would find if he were to lift up that annoyingly opaque sheet. But no, no - he should let Gregory sleep for as long as he was able. It was likely the last full rest that he would be able to enjoy for the next few days, after all. Mycroft set the empty container down on the nearest surface and took a trembling step toward the enticing figure on the bed before shaking his head almost violently. Leave him _alone_ , you beast! He clenched his fists and headed decisively for the bathroom instead, taking his half-drunk beverage with him. He leant his forehead against the closed door for a moment, trying to ignore the utterly ridiculous pang of loss deep in his chest. He’s there, you damn fool - he’s just beyond this door, and he will still be there when you are done. He isn’t going anywhere. Stop it. Just - stop.    

Steeling his spine, Mycroft turned on the shower and let it run overly hot for a little while, filling up the small cubicle with soothing steam. He turned the temperature down a bit before stepping under the spray, letting out a groan as the water hit his skin and rinsed a little of the grime away. Oh yes, this was just what he needed. He carefully and methodically washed himself from head to toe, grunting against the pressure in his lower belly as he twisted and turned. Mycroft winced as he scrubbed lightly at the nape of his neck, probing at the gland delicately and shuddering delightfully.

Soon. His cock twitched appreciatively, and there was a quiver deep within. Oh, very, _very_ soon now. After a final rinse, he stepped out and carefully toweled himself off before taking a moment to clean his teeth, brushing away the oddly combined aftertaste of chicken and sucralose from his tongue. Mycroft impatiently swiped at the condensation fogging the mirror before raking his fingers through his damp hair, frowning at the indistinct reflection of his forelock as it steadfastly refused to lay flat. But then - Gregory often liked to fiddle with it when they were snogging like lovesick teenagers, so... He bit his lip as he deliberately twisted it around a finger and then let it do as it damn well liked.

Patting at his pinkened cheeks and smoothing a hand down his chest, Mycroft opened the door before he could convince himself to linger any longer, stepping from his steamy oasis into the cool, crisp air of the bedroom he shared with his Alpha. His breath caught in his chest as Gregory’s eyes opened slowly but deliberately, as his lover inhaled the remnants of the pheromone-laden steam and growled faintly. Keeping his deliciously dark eyes on Mycroft’s face, he rolled onto his back, stretching his body languidly. He grinned wickedly as his Omega swept his gaze from top to toe, his eyes skipping over the distinct tenting of the sheet at his groin.

“Fuck, love. You smell _so good_.” He stretched again with a little squeak of pleasure, one hand sliding down and underneath to stroke himself idly.

Devil. Mycroft’s knees wobbled dangerously as his mouth watered again, and he tottered his way over to the bed, reaching out to pull the sheet down without comment. His lips parted and an embarrassing rivulet of drool dripped from one corner as he beheld his Alpha’s fully erect cock, so big and so hard that he could practically feel it inside him already. He grasped it eagerly, knocking Gregory’s hand aside in his haste to take hold of him, feeling his heartbeat pulsing through the prominent veins.

Yes, oh yes. This was what he had been waiting for, what he needed so desperately. Gregory let out a surprised chuckle that swiftly transitioned to a strangled moan as Mycroft simply threw one leg over him, straddling his chest and shoving his arse right into his Alpha’s face. He quickly set about rubbing and nuzzling, using both hands to smear copious amounts of his saliva over the shaft of the utterly fantastic cock that was now far too substantial for him to take into his mouth. Mycroft buried his nose into the fluffy curls at the base and just sucked in heady breath after breath, his head practically swimming with his Alpha’s intoxicating musk.

He shuddered as warm, broad hands swept up the backs of his thighs, as they clamped down hard over his arse-cheeks and pulled them apart firmly. Mycroft wiggled his bum in an overt invitation, no - a demand. With a soft noise of undisguised hunger, Gregory leant in and nosed at his bollocks before acceding to said demand, swirling his tongue around his Omega’s slightly puffy entrance. He began to probe almost immediately, and Mycroft moaned his appreciation into the soft flesh at the juncture of thigh and groin, pushing back against the slippery if welcome intrusion.

“More - give me _more._ ” He tried to roll his hips, but found that they were suddenly caught in an iron grip, Gregory holding him firmly in place as he growled at his apparent insolence. Suitably chastened at nothing more than that somewhat threatening noise, Mycroft subsided, letting his body go pliant atop his mate’s, only the faint quivering of his stomach muscles against Gregory’s sternum betraying his desperate need.

After a significant pause during which his Alpha held him still and silent, with nothing more than hot puffs of breath caressing Mycroft’s flesh, he abruptly shoved his face in deep and shook his head from side to side like a dog worrying at a rodent-hole. Mycroft yelped in astonishment, but swiftly swallowed any of his other noises as he continued to lavish attention on Gregory’s cock, licking and nibbling, nuzzling and stroking. He let his mouth go slack as he squeezed his eyes shut, the bliss of being thoroughly eaten out almost too overwhelming for his mind to even process. Sliding his hands down through the spit that he was dribbling over his mate’s prick, he grasped Gregory’s bollocks and tugged firmly.

He was rewarded with a slight spreading of fine, strong thighs and a fresh wave of pheromones sparking behind his nose. Oh, oh yes... Mycroft pushed back against a particularly strong thrust with a wicked tongue, and then he felt the first inquisitive stroke of a finger, sliding up and down his perineum. Yes, oh yes! He swiftly levered himself up with his hands planted on Gregory’s legs, and dipped his spine as he glanced over his shoulder. Meeting hot, dark eyes, he nodded curtly, his teeth buried in his bottom lip.

Fuck, how was it even possible that his Alpha could suddenly look even more feral with no words spoken, with nothing more than a swift read of his Omega’s desires? Gregory flashed his teeth at him in a predatory grin, and quickly slid his finger up and in, pushing deep. Mycroft shuddered and bore down around him, whimpering quietly. With a tiny frown of concentration between his brows, his Alpha did it again, this time with two fingers and a far more decisive thrust, obviously aiming for something within that he had encountered on his first try.

Mycroft threw his head back and moaned up at the ceiling as his body finally gave way, the swift rush of relief cascading through his chest preceding the initial flood of his slick. It gushed out of him and over Gregory’s torso, making his perch suddenly a little too uncertain for his liking. But his Alpha clearly liked it very much, as he once again shoved his face in deep and simply rubbed it all over his cheeks and chin, as he licked and slurped and moaned in absolute ecstasy. Mycroft ground down against him, whining happily in one moment and in virtual agony in the next, feeling that inexorable need to be filled, to be stuffed with his Alpha’s cock and his seed. Oh, but listening to those noises of hunger and delight, feeling his enthusiasm from the inside out...

He finally succeeded in pulling away slightly, twisting his torso and looking down into Gregory’s face, his eyes wild and crazed, his cheeks glistening with slick and spit. Mycroft shuddered violently, and tugged against his Alpha’s tight hold, his hips making tiny, abortive thrusts against Gregory’s tense stomach muscles. Mycroft whimpered and tried again to pull free, his body twitching awkwardly as Gregory made his disapproval of that notion quite clear, his fingers digging in with bruising force, his snarls being muffled by his Omega’s eager hole.

“Alpha, my Alpha please... Oh, please.” Mycroft tried to convey his sheer desperation in the tone of his voice, pleading with him, his eyes round and a trifle wild at the edges. He whimpered and whined and writhed, once again reaching out to tug firmly at the cock that was standing to attention, just waiting for him to sink down on. “This. Need this, please please _please_.” Gregory snarled once more, but there was something more conciliatory in it this time, and his fingers slackened minutely. Mycroft swiftly pressed his advantage, squeezing and tugging as he continued to beg unashamedly. “Please. This - I need this inside me, it’s so big, so hard - it must ache terribly. Let me relieve your suffering, let me feel you inside, please I need you to fuck me, my Alpha, need your cock, your seed.” He bit his lip as Gregory blinked up at him, dragging his tongue up and down the crack of his arse with more of a teasing touch. “Please fill me up, my love.” Mycroft twisted his torso to reach behind himself, awkwardly running his fingers through Gregory’s hair. “My Alpha. My mate. Please.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Back again, woo! I already have some future scenes written up, so hopefully you all won't have to wait as long for the next chapter. I hope I hope I hope...
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies - I adore each and every one of you.
> 
> Please do keep the comments coming. I know that it doesn't seem like it, but they truly do help the muse!
> 
> *mwah*

His Alpha’s eyes narrowed with determination, and Mycroft reeled as he was suddenly released and pushed down the length of Gregory’s torso, his bum sliding over his skin embarrassingly easily. Once his brain had recalibrated itself, he swiftly and eagerly flipped his body around, feeling the need to watch his Alpha’s face as he rode him. While they hadn't discussed the specific order of certain life-changing events before his heat had finally struck, they both instinctively knew that there was no way the bonding would happen during the first frantic rush.

Positioning himself over the head of Gregory’s cock, Mycroft grasped him firmly and began to sink down immediately, his own anticipation ratcheted up to an almost unbearable degree. He moaned unabashedly as he felt that first hint of pressure against his sphincter, as his rim stretched around his Alpha’s impressive girth, giving way achingly slowly. Gregory trembled underneath him as he held himself back, his jaw clenched and neck muscles tight as he restrained the urge to just shove his way in there and simply _take_. He knew that he’d have the privilege of doing just that numerous times in the days to follow, and it spoke highly of his control that he was willing to let his Omega take all the time he needed at this moment.

Not that Mycroft was moving all that leisurely, at least not on purpose. He grunted impatiently and bore down hard as he rocked his hips in sharp little jerks, bracing his hands on Gregory’s ribs as he attempted to force himself to open fully. His Alpha made random noises as he moved, soft growls that were akin to a rumbly purr, clearly intended to soothe and comfort. Mycroft came to a reluctant stop about halfway down, his head hanging low and his thighs quivering as he panted through his exertions.

His chin was lifted after a moment or two, and his beautiful Alpha looked up at him, his eyes kind even as he smiled somewhat tightly. He swallowed a couple of times, clearly struggling to find the right words in his rut-addled brain. “Shh... _Relax_ , love.” He ran his hands up Mycroft’s thighs, smoothing them down his torso, petting him with soft but deliberate intent. “I... I'm not going any...where. Here. Here, with you. Just...breathe. Let it happen.”

Mycroft nodded and closed his eyes briefly, letting his awareness shrink down to the place where they were joined. He was clearly holding himself wound too tight, too anxious to get this initial rush over and done with so they could move on to the main event, as it were. But that shouldn't be the only thing to look forward to, shouldn't be his only focus. What he should be focusing on was this moment with the love of his life, his Alpha. Mycroft took in a breath heavy with pheromones and let it out slowly, feeling his body starting to relax minutely around the stiff flesh partially crammed up his arse.

He took in another as he opened his eyes, looking down into a face suffused with wonder and pure love, feeling a quick tremor in his spine as it started to loosen. Gregory hummed low and pushed up with his hips gently as he tapped over his Omega’s heart with trembling fingers. “Here,” he said, in a voice thick with meaning. “Now.” Mycroft nodded again, biting back tears. He knew what his Alpha was trying to convey, urging him to enjoy _this_ moment, to live every second to the fullest without fretting about the next, and then the next one after that. He moaned as Gregory’s hand travelled down, as he pressed his palm to the softness of his lower belly and pushed firmly. “Let go. Let me in.”

Mycroft bit his lip as the edict echoed in his brain, bringing him back to the very first time that Gregory had breached his body all those long weeks ago. The same words had been uttered, yes, but at the time they had been soft and persuasive, meant to guide him through his anxiety. There was a harder edge to his Alpha’s voice now, something more like a command than a request. Gregory showed his teeth in a feral grin, the corners of his eyes tightening into a compelling stare. His palm pressed in harder, and he growled deeply. “Let. Go.”

Mycroft’s brain went offline for a split second, his head ducking submissively as his shoulders dropped, his body suddenly going quite limp and loose. His Alpha snarled in triumph and pulled him down by the hips as he pushed up with his legs, sliding all the way in with no resistance. Gregory held him down hard for a moment, grinding his hips in a slow, wide circle with an expressive groan of utter relief. Mycroft shuddered as he came back to himself, blinking his eyes rapidly as nothing more than a tiny, _"O_ _h,”_ passed through his lips.

Gregory subsided slightly as his Omega eagerly clenched down around him, as he rocked back and forth against his rolling rhythm, spreading his slick and making the slide of their interlocked flesh nice and smooth. Now that he was buried fully, or as nearly as his swelling knot would allow, his Alpha didn't seem quite as impatient, and he let Mycroft set the pace for himself.

While Mycroft had been a trifle inexperienced in the beginning of their courtship as far as the variety of positions and the different sensations that could be enjoyed while employing said positions, he had proven himself to be quite the apt pupil to Gregory’s patient teachings in the days since. This particular configuration was absolutely one of his favourites, as he loved to drive his Alpha nearly wild with soft and slow, bringing him to the edge before simply sinking down deep and holding himself still until the threat of orgasm had been curtailed before starting it all over again.

He was still amazed that Gregory would let him tantalise and tease, that he would allow Mycroft’s whims to guide the rhythm of their love-making. Not that there hadn't been plenty of times during which he had held his Omega down and simply taken his due, but still. He had never imagined that it could be this way, that his mate would willingly lie back with his face so open, his dark eyes so bright, just lie back and say, _‘Have at me, love. I'm yours.’_

His. This glorious creature was all his, and they would soon have the opportunity to prove it to each other irrevocably, so that no doubt could possibly creep into their minds or their hearts. Bound - they would soon be tied to each other, mind, body and soul. But not just yet, and as much as Mycroft wished to enjoy _this_ moment, to draw out each delicious sensation until both he and Gregory were mad with desire, he could no longer deny his body’s physical imperatives.  

He did take a moment to pose for his lover, clenching down hard around him as he threw his head back, rolling his hips as he once again sought to hold his gaze intensely. But then he shifted onto his knees and lifted himself up before slamming back down again, swiftly setting up a furious bouncing action that made his thighs start to shake almost immediately. His Alpha’s teeth showed in a fierce predatory grin as he braced his elbows on the mattress and offered his hands to his Omega to use as leverage.

Mycroft moaned and then squealed as he took him up on that oh-so-generous offer, holding tight and pushing himself ever higher only to come crashing back down again, his slick thoroughly drenching Gregory’s prick and making his knot supple and slippery. Each successive bounce seemed to drive the edges of the knot just a tad deeper, making Mycroft’s belly flush with need and causing fresh sweat to break out over his brow. And the noises, oh Lord, the obscene and delightful squelching sounds of their bodies as they moved together...

Close, he was so close, but he was quickly becoming fatigued, his reserves of energy having been sapped quite handily by the illness leading up to the culmination of his heat. He didn't think that he’d be able to keep up this pace much longer, but oh... Mycroft whimpered pitifully as his legs trembled, his head spinning with his efforts to keep moving, to keep fucking himself on his Alpha’s magnificent cock. Gregory must have heard something of his exhaustion in his low cries, or perhaps felt him growing weaker atop him, as he snarled and began to drive his hips up harder.

Mycroft managed to lift his head to look into his Alpha’s face, almost hearing his voice in his head as his dark eyes blazed at him. _‘One more, love. Give me just one more.’_ He nodded tremulously and rallied his strength, lifting himself up high on his knees and slamming himself down as Gregory thrust upward viciously. His body eagerly sucked in the rest of his Alpha’s knot just as soon as he had been breached properly, making Mycroft jolt with shock, but then he was shuddering through his orgasm as he was filled so beautifully, so completely.

Greg grunted underneath him as his cock jumped and let loose, as his Omega’s body squeezed at him almost intolerably. His head bounced on the mattress as his neck muscles seized, his eyes rolling back as he shook, groaning out his relief. He knew that he was clamping down on Mycroft’s fingers too hard, but he couldn't seem to let go, not just yet. His Omega grunted faintly with the pain, but held on gamely until his body had relaxed somewhat.

Mycroft graced Greg with a trembling smile as he opened his eyes, bringing his hands up to his mouth to kiss them in a silent apology. They both winced as they released each other, shaking out the cramps and flexing their fingers to return feeling. Greg growled quietly as he looked down his torso, hastily swiping up the streaks of his Omega’s release and licking his fingers clean. He made soft noises of delight at the taste, seemingly ignoring Mycroft’s quiet gasp of pleasure. He could not ignore the quick tremor that shivered down his Omega’s spine, however, nor the utterly wicked sensation of his sweet arsehole fluttering around him and then pulling in tight.

Greg grunted and grasped at Mycroft’s waist, pulling him down hard as his second orgasm rocketed through his body. His Omega moaned loud and long, throwing his head back and rolling his hips in languid pleasure.

“Feels so good, my Alpha. _Hnghhh..._ ”

Greg blinked up at his lovely mate, even more beautiful now with sweat dripping from his temples and fever-bright eyes, his skin flushed with splotchy spots of colour. He shook his head from side-to-side, not denying the truth of Mycroft’s words, simply unable to find any of his own. His mind felt as though it had been dipped in treacle, thick and sticky and utterly clogged up. There was a coolly logical corner of his brain that was speaking to him, calmly repeating over and over again that it was just the rut, that he would be fine, although even that was difficult for him to comprehend at the moment.

But Mycroft seemed to, as he leant forward slightly and caressed his cheek, his eyes warm and loving and full of understanding. Greg nuzzled into his palm, wishing he could adequately express how he was feeling, but it didn't seem necessary as his Omega carefully laid himself down over him, as he nestled his head on his chest, sighing with contentment. Greg hummed and stroked Mycroft’s body aimlessly, relishing in the sensation of a happy and well-fucked mate as he positively melted atop him. He had done this, had turned his powerful man into little more than a limp bundle of pleasure-soaked limbs. His. This gorgeous creature was all his.

Mycroft shifted slightly as Gregory’s arms came up to hold him securely, his hips rocking and tugging against the knot still tied to him. He gasped as his Alpha’s arms tightened, driving the air from his lungs as he shuddered through the last paroxysm of the first coupling of this heat. He moaned with disappointment as Gregory’s spent cock slipped free, hiding his smile in his mate’s chest as he chuckled at him.

He squirmed slightly as he felt the faint tickling sensation of Gregory’s spend dribbling from his hole, trying fruitlessly to clamp his too-loose sphincter shut against any more escaping. His Alpha must have felt the faint quivering of his stomach muscles in the attempt, as he laughed again, a low rumbling expression of mirth that made Mycroft’s body flush hot all over. He protested weakly as he was shifted to the side, but subsided obediently at a soft snarl of warning from his mate.

Mycroft stayed where he was put, lying prone on his belly with his legs spread. He shivered slightly as his Alpha’s body heat drifted away, whimpering unhappily at the loss of contact. His whimpers swiftly transitioned into moans as Gregory’s intention became clear, as he spread his arse-cheeks and began to clean him very thoroughly with his tongue. From the slow and methodical way he went about his task, it was very clear to Mycroft that the act was meant to soothe, not excite. So he let himself relax into it, feeling his body grow heavy, his mind settling into a sort of dozy fugue as his Alpha tended to him.

When Gregory had apparently deemed him clean enough, he settled back down at his side, humming low as Mycroft immediately draped himself half over him, once again nestling his head on his chest. Mycroft sighed as the covers were pulled up, as his mate turned into him to rub his back gently. He shook himself as his eyes started to close, refusing to give in until one last thing had been settled to his satisfaction.

Pulling away slightly, Mycroft captured the hand that was stroking him and brought it to his lips. Gregory tilted his head inquisitively as Mycroft hesitated, watching him intently. Taking in a deep breath, he once again kissed the broad, warm palm and then very deliberately placed it on the swollen gland at the nape of his neck. His breath hitched as Gregory’s lips parted, as his tongue darted out to wet them in heady anticipation. “Next time...please?”

Mycroft’s heart skipped in his chest as his Alpha’s eyes darkened, as his fingers clamped down firmly. He nodded curtly as Mycroft gasped quietly, taking his lips in a kiss that was somehow fierce and almost unbearably gentle at the same time. He could almost hear Gregory’s voice in his head as he tucked his face into the side of his strong neck, feeling his heartbeat against his lips as he finally allowed his eyes to close.

_'Yes. Next time, my Omega.'_


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is. I do hope it suffices, as I feel like I was somewhat lacking in my descriptions. But still, here it is, and I do hope you enjoy.
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies!

Mycroft was hovering in the hazy expanse between the sheer blackness of blissful unconsciousness and the dim light of wakefulness. He almost felt as though he were aimlessly floating in a hot bath, his body bobbing gently in the water as it enveloped him completely and somehow bore him up at the same time. His brain was buzzing slightly with an urgency that he was all too willing to ignore, at least for the moment. He was far too relaxed to bother with the din that was threatening to erupt in his mind, that silly hyperactive child inside him once again fighting to break free.

He tried to soothe the mental projection of his younger self, wrapping his arms around him and cradling him close, rocking their bodies together as he murmured low into his ear. Rocking, swaying back and forth, held securely, feeling another’s warmth all along his back, comfort sinking into his bones and weighing his body down to the bed. Rocking, rocking...feeling his mind drifting ever higher out of the darkness, becoming lighter and more attentive.

Mycroft kept his eyes closed as his brain and body seemed to come back into alignment, shivering with pleasure as he became aware that the steady rocking he had been experiencing hadn’t been entirely in his imagination. He was suddenly and delightfully mindful of his Alpha’s need throbbing between his legs, that wonderful thick cock sliding along his crevice, spreading his slick around and dragging against his swollen hole. He stretched with a little squeak of pleasure, humming tunelessly as Gregory buried his face in between his shoulder-blades and thrust a little more forcefully.

With his eyes still closed, striving to hold onto that dream-like fancy of drifting on an endless ocean, of being rocked on the blood-warm tide, Mycroft ducked his chin into his chest and squeezed his legs together tighter. He reached behind with one wobbly arm to clutch at a substantial thigh, wordlessly urging his Alpha to stronger, swifter action. Mycroft grunted faintly as the crown of that lovely prick snagged against his entrance, trying to shift his hips in an effort to place the weapon more firmly on the target, as it were. He gasped in disappointment as Gregory shoved himself in deeper between his legs, holding himself tucked up securely underneath Mycroft’s bollocks.

He tried to wriggle and squirm, but his Alpha’s hold was immovable, his hips locked firmly in place. Mycroft whined unhappily and jerked with shock as his hair was suddenly taken in a tight grip, as his head was pulled back. Gregory growled faintly behind him, shaking him and making him finally open his eyes. His vision swam for just a moment as he blinked incomprehensibly, going limp with disbelief once his eyes had focused on the bedside table.

Mycroft groaned and tipped his head back, rolling his eyes. “You cannot be serious.”

Gregory expressed his opinion of his mate’s scorn in a rather vehement fashion, clutching at Mycroft’s hair hard enough to bring tears to his eyes and physically snapping his teeth close to his ear. Mycroft shuddered violently with the sheer pleasure of being chastised in this way, once again dipping his head meekly and reaching out to grab at the food that Gregory had apparently gifted to him at some point during his slumber.

There was clearly to be no fucking, and thus no bonding, until he had eaten and bolstered his strength. Meagre though it was, the yoghurt and water went down easily enough, and his Alpha’s contented purring from behind him made Mycroft feel tingly all over. He wanted to please his mate, and it was obvious that he didn’t necessarily have to be constantly presenting to him in order to do so.

Gregory began to move again before half of the tub was consumed, rewarding his Omega for his obedience with tiny rolling thrusts of his hips. Mycroft quivered with delight and nearly abandoned his snack, but before that traitorous thought had even made itself clearly known to him, his Alpha had snapped his body rigid against him, growling threateningly. This of course produced another whole-body spasm of sheer delight, but once Mycroft had recovered himself, he resumed eating with a renewed purpose.

He found himself wondering if the entirety of this heat was to be spent with Gregory in this sort of half-feral state. He wasn’t as far gone as he had been in the aftermath of the encounter with that young Omega, but he clearly wasn’t as controlled as he had been during their first heat together, either. As Mycroft licked the container of yoghurt completely clean and silently passed it over his shoulder for inspection, he felt a swift thrill low in his belly at the thought of truly being taken, as acting as nothing more than a wanton Omega whore serving his greedy Alpha master.

A few of the others had tried to dominate him, but even though he had indeed been needy, none of them had touched him the way Gregory had. None of them had made his joints go floppy and useless, or had made his brain short out into blissful silence. He had presented to them, yes, and he had been fucked by them, but he had never once even entertained the idea of submitting to any of them.

Mycroft snorted out a quick laugh through his nose as the empty container flew across the room and bounced off the opposite wall. Gregory snarled out his approval as his mate drained the last of his water and tossed the bottle in the same direction. Mycroft tried to roll onto his belly, to spread his legs and stick his arse up in invitation, but his Alpha didn’t let him move.

He instead set his teeth gently in his shoulder and hooked a hand between Mycroft’s soaking wet thighs, lifting one leg out of the way. Gregory leant back slightly as his mate immediately gleaned his intention, reaching behind to grasp his Alpha’s cock, giving it one long stroke before angling it just so.

Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a shuddering exhale as he was breached, as Gregory pushed all the way in and started to thrust languidly. The angle was somewhat limited as his strokes were a bit shallow, his knot only barely brushing against Mycroft’s sensitive rim. This seemed to suit his Alpha just fine, however, as his pace stayed steady and sure. Mycroft cursed quietly as it became quite apparent that Gregory had managed to retain a considerable measure of his control after all.

Mycroft gasped as his leg was hoisted a bit higher, as Gregory rolled them slightly so that he was half-underneath his Omega’s body, maintaining his tortuously slow rhythm. Mycroft simply let his body be manipulated however his Alpha wanted him, his head lolling back against Gregory’s shoulder, his limbs flopping uselessly.

He jolted and whined as his mate began to fuck up into him a bit harder, the very edges of his knot pushing against his puffy pucker. “Please, my Alpha... Oh _please_...” Mycroft turned his head and reached up with a trembling hand to press his fingers to Gregory’s lips, slipping them inside as they parted, running the pads over his teeth. His Alpha nodded even as he shuddered underneath him, noisily sucking on Mycroft’s fingers and biting down on them gently.

Mycroft moaned as he was shifted, as he was rolled over onto his belly, his mate’s cock still deep inside. He eagerly pressed his chest flat to the mattress and tilted his face down, exposing his neck, his entire body quivering with barely suppressed excitement. Gregory huffed quietly in his ear as he situated himself, pulling Mycroft’s hips up slightly and running his hands up his back, caressing him gently. When he bent down and nosed at the swollen gland at the base of his neck, the enormity of what was about to transpire suddenly hit Mycroft rather like a bolt of lightning, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably.

What if something went wrong? What if they weren’t meant to bond - what if it didn’t take? What if they were forced to separate, after nothing more than these few short weeks of unbelievable happiness - a feeling that Mycroft had honestly never expected to have in his life - what if he had to give Gregory up? What if...

His brain stuttered into silence as his Alpha moved behind him, pulling out nearly all the way before sliding back in neatly, the edges of his knot pushing against him delightfully. What if didn’t matter, not anymore. What if? Well, his Gregory would take care of him, that’s what if. They would take care of each other, now and forever. That was all there was to it.

Gregory ground down into him as he reached up to twine their fingers together, and Mycroft held tight, almost desperate to feel that connection even as his body was jolted underneath his Alpha’s steady pumping. A swift welter of heat raced up and down his spine as hot breath washed over his neck, as primal noises were grunted into his ear. He smiled into the mattress as Gregory nuzzled at his neck, as he kissed his cheek and nibbled on his jaw.

“I... _mm_. Got you.”

Mycroft nodded as he turned his face to take in a sharp gasp of fresh air, holding tight to his Alpha’s fingers as his body started to tremble, as his hips started to snap a little more brutally into him, his hands pinning him fast to the mattress. “Yes, my Alpha. You have me. Completely.”

He once again presented his neck as Gregory snarled out something vaguely victorious, his spine stiffening as he felt teeth settle around that damned gland, and as his Alpha took him as was his right, as was his destiny, shoving himself fully into him, he bit down hard, breaking the skin and inducing a flood of sweet-tasting balm to rush down his throat.

Mycroft may have screamed, he wasn’t quite sure. There was pain, yes, but it was so sharp and so quick that he almost thought it was nothing more than the imaginings of his overwrought brain. It was quickly overridden by the shuddering of his orgasm, the pleasure so intense and so overwhelming that he quite definitely lost consciousness, if even for just a moment. His vision narrowed into a tunnel and then went black before he snapped back to awareness, feeling his Alpha’s cock buried deep and his teeth set in firmly.

He blinked sluggishly as he tried to process the odd sensation of the gland being sucked at greedily, his brain swirling as his flesh was tugged deeper into Gregory’s mouth. Mycroft drifted pleasantly underneath the weight of his Alpha’s body, trying to categorise what it was that he was even feeling and coming up decidedly short. He had never felt much like a romantic, and often had difficulty comprehending esoteric concepts such as poetry and art. He could look at something and deem it aesthetically pleasing, but such things had never moved him inside. But now he suddenly found his brain swimming with nothing but vague images and indistinct feelings rather than his usual neat and orderly thoughts as he struggled to grasp just what he was going through.   

It was...gleaming sunlight on freshly shorn grass and soft laughter in the distance. A joyous bark from a fondly-remembered furry friend and the warmth of his little brother at his side. It was the satisfaction of being alone in a room stacked wall-to-wall with dusty tomes - a crackling fire and a well-turned tumbler of rich, peaty scotch. It was the smell of spice in his nose and the bitter-salty-sweet taste of love on his tongue. It was warmth and comfort and a feeling of belonging - to someone and for someone. To him, his Alpha, his mate, his love and his heart - his Bonded.

He had often heard it said that home was not a place, but a person. Never had that statement made much sense to his logical brain, but now he felt it so profoundly, so deeply in his bones that he wept with the sheer joy and _rightness_ of it. He had finally found the one that he could call home.

Mycroft knew that it was fanciful, but as he drifted on the ebbing tide of bliss, his limbs loose and unresponsive, he could swear that the steady heartbeat thrumming against his back skipped slightly, altering itself to match the rhythm of his own. Gregory pressed a palm to his sternum and pulled him in impossibly closer as he rolled them both to the side, seemingly trying to mould their bodies into one single being.

He worked at the wound with his mouth, massaging at it with his tongue, driving his saliva further into the deep cuts to ensure that his Omega’s bloodstream caught the hormonal elixir and spread it liberally through his system. Already Mycroft’s scent had taken on an almost imperceptible hint of cinnamon, a tiny bite of spice woven through the familiar richness of bittersweet chocolate.

Greg moaned low in his throat at the taste of his Omega’s blood, the coppery tang somehow sweet as ambrosia on his tongue. He closed his lips around the gland and sucked hard again and again, chasing the lingering taste of the balm that Mycroft had gifted to him in his turn. Mycroft gasped as his hips jerked involuntarily, and as a second orgasm wrung itself from Greg’s heavy bollocks, he bit down again.

His Omega let out a strangled noise and convulsed in his arms, melting into a human-shaped puddle as Greg withdrew his teeth. He nuzzled at Mycroft’s hair in a silent apology, sliding his hand down to dabble his fingers in the warm puddle of fresh semen at the head of his mate’s prick. He had seemingly come again at nothing more than that second bite and another wave of his Alpha’s spend flooding his insides. Greg shivered at the thought that he had that kind of effect on his mate, that he could make him come without even being hard.

Mycroft rolled his hips languidly, reveling in the touch of his Bonded’s hand even as he squeezed and tugged at his soft member. It was his now, after all, and Mycroft would happily give himself over to Gregory for whatever purpose he wanted him for. Now that they had bonded, he truly belonged to his Alpha in all the ways that mattered and Gregory belonged to him as well. Now that they were bound, they were both home.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more of the bonding experience. This got a bit, um...fanciful and a tad overly poetic, perhaps, but I like it, so. Would be interested to know if anyone else likes it as well!
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies!!
> 
> *mwah*

Mycroft drifted pleasantly until he felt a gentle if persistent tingle at the base of his bollocks, letting out a quiet whimper as he tugged ineffectually at his Alpha’s knot. Twisting his torso and looking into deep chocolate brown eyes, he reached back to tug at damp silver hair, drawing Gregory’s face back into the crook of his neck.

“Again, my love. Please. I need to see your face, to feel the weight of your body on top of mine. Please.”

His Alpha growled faintly and ground into him as he opened his mouth wide, pressing down hard over the bite marks that were still weeping a pinkish-clear fluid. Mycroft’s body went completely rigid, his sphincter clamping down on Gregory’s knot and squeezing relentlessly until it deflated abruptly. Without pausing to mourn the lack of fullness, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before he would feel that glorious sensation once more, Mycroft flipped onto his back and spread both arms and legs.

Gregory settled into the space allotted for him easily, aligning their flaccid but plump members as he lowered himself cautiously onto his Omega’s sweat-slicked torso. He mimicked Mycroft’s posture, framing his face with both hands and placing their foreheads together. He hummed low and deep as they breathed the same air, feeling his head swirl with the intoxicating knowledge that this captivating creature was now his and only his.

“ _Mm_... Mine.”

Greg couldn’t help but flash his teeth as nothing but the soft growl of his voice made a quick shudder race through the lean body trapped underneath his, unwittingly rutting against Mycroft’s groin and feeling his cock fill out next to his. _“Hmmrr..."_

“Gregory.” Mycroft gasped quietly, his head twisting involuntarily on his neck. “Gregory Lestrade, my mate. My Alpha.”

“Here, yes. ‘M here.”

His Omega practically purred in his ear as he drew his face down into his neck, running his nails down the broad back as the muscles shifted and twitched under Gregory’s skin. “Oh, I know you are...” Mycroft drew his knees a bit closer to his chest, opening himself further and grinding upward. “Please, my Alpha. _Please_ \- take me again.”

“My...” Greg growled and bit down on a sharp clavicle. “Mycroft. More.”

“Fuck me, oh please. Take me, make me yours. Mate me, my Alpha.” Mycroft whimpered softly. “Please.”

“Always... Mm, sweet Omega.” Greg lifted himself up slightly, twisting his hips and rocking his stiff prick between his lover’s thighs, teasing him with long, slow glides over his slick entrance. He relented as Mycroft looked up at him desperately, his teeth clenched in his bottom lip to hold back on his cries. With a minute shift of angle, his cock slid in neatly, and he buried himself balls-deep. His Omega’s knees winched in around his ribs, his heels digging into the small of his back as he threw his head back with a loud groan of relief. Greg paused for a moment, blinking the tears out of his eyes, shaking his head in an attempt to restore his senses. “So beautiful. My Bonded.”

Mycroft blinked rapidly and drew his Alpha back down, kissing away the salty-sweet moisture from his cheeks and knocking their foreheads together gently. “Bonded.” He suddenly giggled as Gregory licked a wet stripe up his neck and blew a cool breath over it, making his skin break out into gooseflesh. “My wonderful silly beast.”

Greg grinned and began to move, keeping his rhythm light and easy even as his knot began to swell almost immediately. Yes, easy and carefree - joyous. They both knew that this was still a momentous occasion, and that their bodies hadn’t fully adjusted to their new reality just yet, but it was done, finally done, and their bond was solid and strong. They were now joined to one another and nothing and nobody would ever come between them again. It was a time for celebration, and they eagerly opened up their hearts to one another as they moved together, a gentle push and pull that they drew out for as long as they possibly could, looking into each other’s eyes until the emotion they saw reflected there threatened to overwhelm them.

Mycroft pulled Gregory’s face down to his as he felt that familiar warmth swirling deep within, crying out his pleasure into his Alpha’s mouth as his knot breached him, as his body took it into him and held him tight. Greg grunted even as he thrust his tongue into his Omega’s mouth, his spine crackling with the force of his orgasm. They relaxed by degrees as they kissed mindlessly, touching and caressing as their brains settled back into some sense of normality.

Greg heaved a hot breath over Mycroft’s ear, smiling as he shuddered with delight. “Mine, oh mine... Love you.”

Mycroft gripped at one glorious arse-cheek with one hand while the other fisted into short silver hair, holding firmly and tugging in opposite directions. He nipped at Gregory’s ear in return, laughing with dark delight as he ground into him deeper, another flood of heat washing over his insides. “As you are mine, and I dare say that the depth of my love rivals yours, if not eclipses it completely.”

Greg shifted again, pushing up slightly to look fully down at Mycroft’s face. He tilted his head inquisitively and closed his eyes resolutely, reaching down into himself, feeling for that silvery thread, the shining bridge that now spanned the short distance between them, connecting them to each other. He shivered with delight as he saw it as a tangible thing in his mind’s eye, reaching down just a bit deeper into the dark well underneath it.

It wasn’t difficult for him to sweep up the manifestation of his feelings for his Omega, as it was currently floating very near to the surface, pulsing with life and energy. Greg held the disembodied heart in his hands, feeling rather like a protagonist in a story by Poe as it throbbed at him insistently. One could go mad, he thought. To have this much inside and not be able to share it - one could easily lose his senses. He realised with a start that he nearly had, and he cradled the slippery muscle gently to him as if to soothe away its troubles.

Then Greg drew back his arm and threw it away from himself, watching as it faded into the light on the other side of that unknowable chasm. Distantly feeling his Omega’s body arching underneath his, he gave out a wild laugh and sprinted over the bridge, chasing after his heart. He dove into the glimmering pinkish-red of a tropical sunset, not entirely surprised to feel warm water closing over his head.

Mycroft’s body bucked again as he felt something smack him in the chest, instinctively curling in on himself, but...not. He realised somewhat belatedly that it wasn’t an actual physical sensation, but something far more nebulous as he straightened his imaginary limbs, cautiously rolling over and examining his surroundings. He was at the end of a bridge, looking down into swirling waters of an impossibly candy-coloured hue.

Something caught at the edge of his hearing, the muffled thud-thump of a pulse in his ear. Mycroft stepped onto the silvery thread as a reddened lump came into view, sidling closer and staring down in consternation at something that looked as though it had escaped from Sherlock’s questionable laboratory. A pleasant sound echoed around him from the other end of the bridge, a soft laugh that he recognised as Gregory’s, the laugh that he used to reassure his lover, to gently admonish him for his naïveté or his cowardice.

Mycroft grimaced as he bent over to examine this grotesque prize a bit more thoroughly, his eyes widening as he caught the scent of exotic spice swirling around it. Slowly, gently, he scooped the strongly beating heart up in his hands and brought it closer to his face. He stroked it with his thumbs as the heat of it settled into his palms, bringing it closer still as the aroma of his lover tickled at his nostrils.

Something splashed in the waters underneath him as Mycroft hesitated, acting before his brain gave him a reason not to. He stuck out his tongue and licked delicately at the throbbing muscle, his whole being reacting to the sharp sting of spice on his tongue. It was almost electric in its heat and intensity, making every little hair on his body stand on end. Again, not allowing himself to think on it, Mycroft opened his mouth and bit down, tearing off a substantial chunk with his teeth and simply swallowing it whole.

The heat of it seared his oesophagus as it slid down, spreading through his chest before it settled into his belly and lower, surrounding his own heart as it beat in double-time. The force of it drove Mycroft to his knees on the surface of the bridge, and although it shuddered underneath him, it held steady and true. He gasped for air as he clutched Gregory’s heart to him, for of course it was his Alpha’s heart, of course it was. A wild surge of emotion swept over him and Mycroft suddenly understood what it meant to be an Alpha taking his true love and making him his.

The sensation was raw and feral, but tender also in its fierce joy, in the pride that he felt at securing such a powerful mate. His love was possessive, but not capriciously so. No, there was an unshakeable trust there as well, a trust that Mycroft vowed never to break. It was protective and sheltering, and it was _absolute_. He shook as he finally understood just how close this immense love had come to consuming his Alpha forever.

Mycroft stared down in awe at the organ steadily pulsing away in his hands, whole and hale, not a trace of a wound anywhere to be seen, even as the gamey taste of meat lingered on his tongue. There was another splash down below as he shuffled to the edge of the bridge on his knees, feeling the love of his Alpha deep inside and understanding what he must do. Mycroft watched as the heart slipped from his hands and fell, twisting this way and that before plunging into the pink mass of water. As he curled up on himself and pondered the path that his Alpha’s journey might take, he found himself marvelling that it seemed to be Gregory who had the most literal turn of mind in this odd situation.

Greg had felt the sharp bite in his chest as Mycroft had swallowed him down, but the soothing balm of the blood-warm water had calmed him until the pain had dissipated. He splashed up to the surface idly, but the liquid that surrounded him was more viscous than pure water, and it dragged him down again. He didn’t mind so much, as it wasn’t suffocating him. It swirled around him and bore him up, and he happily drifted along, a serene sense of peace making his body heavy even as his limbs floated around him easily.

Something plunged into the water above his head, and Greg reached out blindly to grab at it, bringing his heart closer to him as he peered at it in the pink haze. He traced over the missing piece with a soft smile, clasping it to his chest and pushing hard. It slipped back into place easily, and Greg massaged at his sternum, trying to rub away the lingering ache. Executing a quick backflip in the water, he couldn’t help but giggle quietly to himself before opening his mouth wide and sucking in a great draught of the fluid surrounding him, taking it into his lungs, into his belly.

Up above, Mycroft suddenly clutched at his lower stomach, just above the pubic bone, feeling an unusually sharp twinge deep within.

Greg’s insubstantial form spasmed gently as the taste of bittersweet chocolate flooded his senses, his limbs drawing in toward centre mass, his knees pulling up to his torso. He blinked wonderingly as his chin settled down on the hands curled up on his chest, realising the connotations almost immediately. It made sense - where else would an Omega’s love lie, if not in the womb?

But this was not a cold and sterile place, not at all as Mycroft had claimed it to be. No, here was warmth and comfort, nourishment for the body and the soul. It was protection, and life itself. It was love at its most elemental level, emotion woven into the building blocks of bone and muscle, flowing in his bloodstream. But it was also a hungry, selfish love. As vast as this ocean seemed, there was no room here for anyone other than Mycroft’s chosen, and Greg found that he was perfectly at ease with that.

They would be greedy and selfish together, content to love only one another until the end of their days.

He reluctantly pulled himself out of his foetal position and began to swim toward the opposite shore, reaching up to pull himself onto that bridge, collapsing onto it with a soft sigh. There was still a quiet ache in his chest, but as he settled himself, it was soothed by a steady rocking tide within. Greg sighed again as he gained his feet and backed up until the solid structure was once again a mere silvery thread stretching into the distance. Biting his lip, he reached out and flicked at it gently.

Mycroft gasped as the seemingly solid surface he was lying on shook underneath him, an odd twanging sound echoing in his ears. He scrambled to his feet and backed away, still clutching at his stomach as the road transformed into something that shimmered in the half-light, like a nearly invisible spider web. It pulsed in time with the faint thudding beat under Mycroft’s fingers - his Alpha’s heartbeat deep within.

Biting his lip uncertainly, he also reached out to pluck at the thread, closing his eyes as the vibration shook him out of his head and back into his physical form. They had somehow managed to arrange themselves into a comfortable cuddle while in the midst of their internal explorations, as Mycroft blinked himself to awareness against his Alpha’s chest.

He listened to that impossible heartbeat for a moment longer before stirring, looking into dark eyes full of wonder and an inestimable love. Mycroft grinned sheepishly as Gregory tilted his chin up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that spoke silent volumes. He combed through salt-and-pepper chest hair before tapping lightly over his Alpha’s heart, and Gregory simply nodded before sliding his hand down, over Mycroft’s lower belly.

Nodding in his turn, Mycroft settled down again, his body suddenly drooping with bone-deep exhaustion. The chest under his head filled with air and was let out slowly and deliberately. He was just able to register his surprise at hearing a soft snore above him before he was enveloped in darkness.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for my delay on this. Well, except the summer months always seem to sap my creative energy, and I haven't been able to focus properly... But here we are once again, and I'm hoping to update this on a more regular basis soon.
> 
> Please heed the tags on this one - here we have a bit of pee-play, which I know is not a lot of people's jam.
> 
> Please do comment, perhaps it will help to kick the muse in the arse. 
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies!

Mycroft woke before his Alpha did, blinking into warm skin as his human pillow moved up and down with steady respiration. He was only able to reflect on the strange impossibility of another person residing in his head, however distantly, for just a moment before there was a seismic movement underneath him, almost as if Gregory had heard his thoughts. But then - perhaps he had.

Greg shifted slightly, groaning as his back grumbled at him, protesting at being in such a static position for so long. He rolled into the enticing presence next to him, wrapping both arms around his Omega and squeezing tight just to relish in the small squeak generated as it was uttered into his breastbone. He relented as Mycroft pushed against him gently, looking down into clear grey eyes and feeling his heart trip in his chest.

“You slept.”

Greg nodded slightly. “Needed it, I suppose. Not entirely surprised that something like Bonding can knock a body for a loop or two.”

He chuckled as his Omega’s eyes widened and a soft smile quirked up at one corner of his mouth. “Oh! And you’re not as, um...”

“Grunty?” Greg ducked down to kiss the tip of his lover’s nose.

Mycroft rolled his eyes even as he giggled becomingly. “Perhaps not precisely the word I would have chosen, but yes.”

He idly pinched one of his Alpha’s nipples as he shrugged, biting his lip as the solid body tucked around his shivered delightfully. “I guess that’s something to do with the Bonding as well.” Greg ground his erection into Mycroft’s thigh, humming low. “Obviously still in my rut, but the,” he gestured vaguely, “the noise, the static in my head has faded. Still not ready to let you out of this room any time soon.”

“I have my Gregory back. My love.”

Greg blinked up at Mycroft as he pushed him back down onto the mattress, quickly throwing one leg over and straddling him. “I think so, yeah. _Nghk_.” He gripped at his Omega’s thighs as he circled his hips, grinding down on him as he threw his head back and sighed up at the ceiling. “You should eat something, love.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and reached behind to tweak at Gregory’s bollocks, grinning sharply as he stiffened and groaned loudly. “As should you. But after. Need you, my Alpha. My Bonded.”

Greg cursed quietly, but he did not object as his Omega took him in hand, as he guided him to his slick-sweet hole and sank down in one slow push. “A-after. I’ll hold you to that, Omega mine.”

Mycroft threw his head back as he immediately began to move, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. He selfishly strove for his own pleasure, using his mate’s divine instrument simply as a means to an end. He tilted his head slightly as he felt an almost overwhelming emotion flooding his chest, looking down into dark chocolate brown eyes that were glowing with pride and satisfaction. Mycroft’s hips kicked a little harder as he realised that what he was feeling was being reflected in Gregory’s face, that he was experiencing his mate’s emotions as though they were his own.

He gasped and moved faster still as the enormity of his Alpha’s feelings for him filled him to almost overflowing, moaning out his encouragement as Gregory clasped his waist and began to fuck up into him. He nodded almost desperately as the broad fingers clamped down hard, as he was pulled down and more or less impaled on that wondrous thick cock. His body sucked at his Alpha’s knot, squeezing tight around it as Mycroft shuddered and shook through his orgasm.

Gregory’s eyes were still rolling back in his head as Mycroft tentatively reached out to that invisible string that was bridging the span between them, feeling the thrumming of it under the cage of his ribs. He flicked at it in his mind’s eye, biting his lip in triumph as Gregory jolted underneath him and pushed up even harder with his hips. Panting quietly, Mycroft braced his hands on his Alpha’s chest and tried in vain to count the beats of his heart.

Gregory stretched underneath him with a low growl, loosening his grip and sliding his hands around to cup his arse possessively. “My Omega.”

Mycroft grinned down at him, his own exuberance impossible to disguise. “Yours, yes. Just as you are mine.” With a sharp snap of his hips, he drew another swift rush of semen from his Alpha’s bollocks, laughing lightly as a strangled curse dropped from his mate’s lips.

Gregory shook his head even as he took in a shuddering breath, watching as Mycroft dabbed at his brow with the back of his hand and testily wiped it off on his belly. “Perhaps a shower first, and then food?”

Mycroft tried to look bashful as his Alpha read his desires easily. “Oh, please, can we?”

Gregory snorted softly at his innocent display. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.” He reached up to curl Mycroft’s forelock around his finger, smiling softly as it wrapped itself around him, letting go only reluctantly. His Omega shuddered unpleasantly as he traced the tracks of the sweat that had dripped from his face and down his chest. “Poor thing. I went and made you all mucky, hm?”

“You are naught but a beast.” Mycroft shivered with delight as Gregory trailed his fingers all over his torso, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “And oh God, but I love it.” He sighed as he was pulled down into his lover’s embrace, as strong arms were wrapped around him tight. “Never knew it could be like this - never thought I’d have it.” He stroked his Alpha’s chest hair as their connection pulsed and thrummed between them. “You... You live inside me, now.”

“Yes. And you’re in me. I can feel you there, love. You’ll always be there to soothe me in my times of need.” Greg played with the damp hair at the nape of Mycroft’s neck, tickling at the bond-bite gently. “It’s corny, but I finally feel complete, I think.”

Mycroft burrowed into him a little further, humming in quiet contentment. In the long moment of comfortable silence that followed, he felt a distinct twitching in the flesh that he was still tied to, and sat up abruptly as his Alpha stiffened underneath him with a low groan. Mycroft grinned as he ground down on him, pulling a sad little moue as the knot deflated. Gregory huffed out small pants for breath as he rolled his eyes, bucking his hips gently.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Mycroft shivered as Gregory ran his fingers up his sides, stifling his giggles as he slowly and creakily climbed down from his perch. He held out both hands to support his mate as he rolled off of the mattress, coming to his feet with a grunt. “Christ, but I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Greg led the way into the bathroom, tugging Mycroft in by the hand and steering him in the direction of the shower. He altered his own course as his Omega stepped into the cubicle, intending to relieve some of the pressure on his bladder. He was stopped by a soft sound, something distressed and needy all at once. Greg turned and blinked at the hand that was being held out to him, looking into a face that was full of doubt, but also an odd sort of hope.

“Gregory, wait. I want...” Greg felt his cheeks start to warm as Mycroft glanced aside at the toilet and then back to him, a hint of his intention starting to glimmer in his brain. Something deeply primal within him gave out a shout of delight, and Greg’s body jerked hard as he reached out somewhat reluctantly to take his Omega’s hand.

Mycroft smiled at him encouragingly, his lips trembling uneasily. He was a little surprised that the idea had even occurred to him, and he was even more surprised by the swift thrill that said idea had sent coursing down his spine. Shutting the glass door behind them, Gregory stood back and watched with hot if wary eyes as his Omega went to his knees on the tiled floor.

“Mycroft - are...are you sure?” Greg ran one hand through his hair uncertainly. “I don’t know if I even _can_.”

Mycroft quirked a grin up at him. “Shy bladder? Both of us have urinated in each other’s presence before. This shouldn’t be any different.”

Greg’s eyebrows lifted in astonishment. “Oh, you think not?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me why you want this. If it’s something to do with humiliation...”

Mycroft shook his head curtly. “No, that’s not it, not really.” He bit his lip and twisted his fingers together briefly before meeting Gregory’s eyes directly, holding his gaze. “You are my Bonded, my Alpha - I wish for you to demonstrate just how completely you own me now.” Mycroft smirked as Gregory’s arms went limp, falling to his sides with a soft flump. “I want to be marked by you, in every way possible.”

“Mycroft, I...” Greg’s voice stuttered in his throat as his Omega shuffled toward him on his knees, pressing close and putting his arms around his waist as he looked up at him with absolute devotion in his clear grey eyes.

“You cannot say that the idea does not hold some appeal, or else you would have simply refused me and taken care of business in the usual manner. Some part of you wants this, my Alpha, or is at least intrigued by it. I _do_ want this - very much. Please - own me. Take possession of that which is yours and mark me so thoroughly that nobody else will ever think about even touching me again. Please.”

Mycroft sighed lustily as he felt a twitch against his sternum, as Gregory’s eyes widened with sheer greed and then half-closed with relief as his bladder seemed to let go all on its own. He bit his lip and caressed the back of Mycroft’s head as he fluttered his eyelashes in bliss, moaning as he was bathed in his Alpha’s most elemental scent, as the hot fluid rushed down his torso and the acrid odour bloomed in his nostrils. He held tight and tucked his cheek into Gregory’s abdomen as his broad hand clamped down around the nape of his neck, massaging the tender bruise and then squeezing hard around it as his flow trickled to a stop.

Mycroft moaned again, his entire body quivering with delight until it went utterly still in his Alpha’s grip, his arms falling away limply. He grunted softly as the member that had soiled him so beautifully twitched again, growing hard against his sternum. But still he remained on his knees, with his cheek mashed to firm stomach muscles that were jerking erratically, listening to the rush of Gregory’s lungs as he heaved for breath. He hissed briefly as his hair was fisted, his head being pulled back roughly to look up into a face that had gone fierce and wild.

Mycroft gasped as he was shaken, his hands coming up to grasp at Gregory’s legs for support. “Tell me.” His Alpha’s voice was low and deep, his usual gravelly tone little more than a guttural growl.

Mycroft blinked rapidly. “Oh, Gregory, thank you, thank you so much. it was wonderful - so hot and utterly divine, so...”

“No.” His Alpha shook him again, wrenching his head back even further as he stepped a bit closer, caging him in the vee of his legs and throwing his balance off. He shifted his hips, letting his stiff cock bob up to rub at Mycroft’s cheek. “Tell. Me.”

His grin sharpened as his Omega seemed to swoon, his neck lolling as his eyes rolled back. Mycroft managed to bring himself back out of it fairly quickly, biting his lip hard to introduce a bit of clarity back to his brain. “Yours. Now and forever - I will always be yours.”

_“Mine.”_


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallooo again...
> 
> Some less than seemly language in this one, but it all comes from a loving place, so... ;-)
> 
> Please do comment, help to keep the muse in line!
> 
> *mwah*!

Mycroft tried to nod as his Alpha’s grip lessened slightly, cautiously reaching up to cup his erection to his cheek. He managed to turn his head to lick at Gregory’s shaft, unsurprised when he shifted his stance to run the tip over his lips. He suckled at the head, taking as much of it in as he could, his eyes once again threatening to roll out of his head at the sheer deliciousness of it. The extra tang of salt lingered on his tongue as he slithered it under the taut foreskin, and he took firm hold of the base as Gregory groaned above him.

“Mine. Filthy fucking beast, you’re all mine.”

Mycroft nodded, his lips pulled obscenely wide around his Alpha’s considerable girth. He gasped unhappily as he was pulled off, a tenuous string of saliva bridging the gap from the head of his lover’s prick to his lips before it was broken by his tongue darting out to lick it away. “My Alpha, yes. You own me - completely. I belong to you, only you.” He tried to stroke Gregory’s cock as it flexed in his grip but found himself being wrenched up on his feet instead, his chest suddenly pressed up against the cool tiles. He obediently spread his legs as his Alpha knocked his feet apart, tilting his hips back to grant unfettered access.

He grunted softly as he was breached almost immediately, his body eagerly giving way for his mate’s stiff prick. Mycroft nodded with desperation as his arms were pulled up over his head, as they were pinned to the wall with one strong hand, the other grasping at his throat. Gregory took the shell of his ear in his teeth as he began to fuck him, solid hard thrusts that made Mycroft go up on his toes as he drove into him. A swift welter of heat cascaded down his spine as his Alpha growled low in his chest, snarling out almost incomprehensible words of stark possession.

“Mine, mine. My Omega, such a dirty little whore for me look at you now look at what you’ve done, gone and soiled yourself - fuck you reek, you know that? Smell like me, like my come and my piss and fuck if that isn’t the hottest fucking thing anyone’s ever done for me. Just a base little animal at heart, just looking for someone to come claim you weren’t you, you slutty Omega - just looking for someone big enough to hold you down and take you the way you were meant to be taken, to rut you until you’re dripping with their come, all wrung-out and limp as a rag. Here I am, sweet tender filthy whore, here I am and now you’re mine all mine and there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say, I’ll have you any way I want you and you’re going to obey me, aren’t you? No smart words, no talking back, you’re just gonna roll over and present for me whenever I snap my fingers, yeah?”

Mycroft nodded again, his breath being driven out of his nose with each of his Alpha’s thrusts, his own teeth digging into the flesh of his upper arm as Gregory hoisted them higher over his head. He tried to intersperse affirmative exclamations whenever his mate took a pause for breath, crying out “Yes,” and “Yours,” at sporadic intervals. He strove to keep his posture just right, the perfect curve in his back, holding his hips up high and his legs open, presenting himself just as his Alpha demanded of him.

Gregory snarled again, a thin rivulet of drool running down Mycroft’s neck as he kept him pinned with his teeth. “Filthy beast. You’re _mine_ , my property, my fuckdoll, mine to own and to defile and fuck until my bollocks are wrung dry, you’re gonna be a good little whore and milk me until I’m hollow and aching. Mine mine all mine if anyone touches you, breathes on you even fucking _looks_ at you I’ll rip them apart you understand me? Nghhh, mine fuck yes _MINE_.”

Mycroft’s low wail echoed through the small cubicle as his Alpha grunted bestially and shoved in hard, forcing his knot through his rim with a distinct popping sound. He convulsed against the wall as his body responded to his Bonded’s orgasm, his prick jerking and spurting as he felt the overwhelming warmth flooding his insides. Gregory grunted again as his Omega’s body clenched down around him, squeezing hard and quite literally making him see stars. He shoved him harder against the wall as his muscles jerked spasmodically, pressing his open mouth to shoulder and neck and cheek as he shuddered for breath.

“Mine mine yes mine oh God...” Mycroft whimpered against the weight holding him down, struggling to take in his own harsh gasps for air. “So filthy and debauched, such a dirty little whore...” Gregory hummed low and moaned in his Omega’s ear as he ran his hands up his arms, gently twining their fingers together and bringing them down to their sides. He nuzzled into his sweaty hair, kissing him lovingly, reverently. “So gorgeous, so exquisite, so unbelievably perfect. Mine, oh yes...”

Mycroft whimpered again before moaning low and long, his tongue trembling in his mouth. “Yours, Gregory. Always yours.” He twisted his torso awkwardly, seeking out his Alpha’s lips and Gregory obliged, kissing him as fiercely as their restricted range of motion would allow. It was artless and messy, more a smearing of their mouths than anything else, basic and primal - completely and utterly perfect. They panted into each other’s mouths, hot breath washing over sweat- and spit-slicked skin, soundlessly giggling together as vision cleared and hearts resumed a steady rhythm.

Greg put his weight back onto his own feet, leaning back slightly to give his beleaguered captive room to move and breathe properly, mouthing idly at his bond-mark. Mycroft gasped and shuddered as it was sucked at hard, inciting another spasm in his body that squeezed down around his Alpha’s knot, wrenching another sharp orgasm out of his tight bollocks. Greg staggered slightly, but refused to lay his weight down on his mate again, drawing him closer to his body and wrapping their entwined arms around his torso.

He shuffled backward awkwardly, tugging Mycroft’s limp body along with him until he could brace himself against the opposite wall, encouraging his Omega to lean back on him as support. Greg knocked their temples together gently as Mycroft tipped his head back on his shoulder, blinking up at the ceiling languidly. Greg laughed at his dazed expression with a soft smile, grazing his lips over his high cheekbone. He rocked their bodies together slowly, humming as Mycroft’s slack lips turned up in amusement and weary bliss.

“Mine. Oh so perfect and beautiful and mine. My sweet precious Omega...” Greg held him a bit tighter, sighing as something indefinable swept through his chest. “I can’t even tell you what you mean to me, Mycroft. Love doesn’t seem like a grand enough word, sometimes. You’re my greatest treasure.” His mate trembled in his arms, turning his face to tuck it into the side of his neck. Greg wasn’t entirely surprised to feel the hot tears running down Mycroft’s cheeks, but it still made his heart clench in his chest as he tried to soothe him with a low hum. “It’s so huge inside me - sometimes I feel like it’s going to swallow me whole. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s terrifying and fucking exhilarating all at the same time. Makes my head spin and my tummy all funny.”

Mycroft huffed out a quiet sigh, sniffling into his Alpha’s skin. “Gregory...”

“I love you so very much, my sweet Omega, my mate.” Greg tilted his head into Mycroft’s, rubbing gently. “My Bonded.” He extricated his fingers delicately, grasping hold of his Omega’s upper arms and squeezing lightly. “You are my heart and my life and I would do absolutely anything for you.” Greg sniffed heartily as Mycroft tried to wriggle a little further into him, suddenly pushing his upper body away from his with a huff of feigned disgust. “But you truly do stink terribly right now, my love.”

He reached for the tap as Mycroft let out a sharp bark of laughter, hanging his head and giggling madly. Just as Gregory fiddled with the dial to turn the shower on, Mycroft narrowed his eyes and tugged firmly at the knot still tied to him, squeezing with his muscles and twisting his hips sharply. His Alpha snarled loudly as his hands clamped down around his waist, the cords in his neck standing out as the third paroxysm shuddered down his spine, his teeth clacking together loudly as they clenched down over a loud grunt of mixed pleasure-pain. “Nnnngh _fuck..._ ”

Mycroft turned as he felt his lover’s spent cock slip free from his hole, plastering his reeking, sticky skin to his torso, grinding down on him with a malicious little grin. He ignored Gregory’s wrinkled nose and exaggerated gagging noise in favour of wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep snogging session. They kissed as though they wanted to devour each other, all strangled breath and clashing teeth before settling into a sort of blissed-out trance, taking turns to suck on luscious bottom lips until they were swollen and tingling with delight.

Greg snaked one arm around and down, palming one glorious arse-cheek before deftly slipping his middle finger up his Omega’s slick-sweet entrance, pushing in deep and pulling him in impossibly closer. Mycroft pulled away from his lips with a low moan, throwing his head back as his eyes fluttered in ecstasy. “Hah... Yes, my Alpha - oh yes.”

Greg withdrew and dragged his hand a little lower, gathering up the mess that had dripped from his Omega’s well-used hole. He smeared it up and down and all around, grinning as Mycroft’s body jerked against his, tucking his half-hard cock up between his legs. “First a very thorough scrub, and then back into your nest, my love. My legs can only take so much of fucking up against walls, you know.” Mycroft bit his lip as he continued to roll his hips back into his hand, squeezing his thighs together as he tugged on his Alpha’s rapidly hardening cock. “God, but you are a tart and a half...”

Mycroft giggled and reluctantly pulled away, reaching for the soap and a cloth that was immediately whisked from his hands. “Only for you, my Bonded.”

Greg grinned irrepressibly as he started to scrub his mate down _very_ thoroughly. “My Bonded. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.” His eyes suddenly lit up with delight. “Rings! We need to go shopping for rings, don’t we? This was such an unorthodox process we didn’t get a chance to prepare for it, not properly. We need something visible, a symbol to show people so they know that we belong to each other.”

“Anybody that matters will already know, my love.”

Gregory levelled a dark look at him that made Mycroft shiver with delight. “And anyone that doesn’t know will swiftly get his arse handed to him if there are any unseemly advances. So best that everybody knows, don’t you think?”

Mycroft bit his lip coquettishly. “It might be best, yes. But I cannot deny the appeal of seeing you fighting for my honour, my Alpha.” He ran his hands up Gregory’s chest and over his shoulders, moving down to squeeze at the biceps that had just flexed subconsciously. “My fierce beast, my sweet caveman.”

Greg shook his head and chuckled fondly. “Tart,” he reiterated.

Mycroft suffered a second scrub-down before he was able to return the favour and wash his Alpha’s luscious body, and then yet _another_ before he was finally allowed to quit the shower cubicle. He scowled briefly as Gregory vigorously rubbed him down with a towel, making his already reddened skin tingle in a not-altogether pleasant manner. He hissed quietly as his mate chafed at his chest and belly, turning a petulant glare on him as Gregory chuckled softly. 

Greg ran his palm over Mycroft’s pink skin, smoothing down his riotous chest hair, leaning in to nose at his neck. “Mm, there you are...that’s just what I needed.” He nuzzled along his collarbone, licking and nibbling. “There’s that lovely scent that makes me lose all sense...”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse, really. Been working on this chapter on and off for a while, in between bouts of werewolf/vampire frolicking. But here it is, and I hope to continue working on it very soon.
> 
> I heart you all, please do comment if you are so inclined. 
> 
> *muah*

Mycroft sighed as his mate pressed close, the heat of him somehow sinking into his bones, making him feel safe and protected. He swayed uncertainly as Gregory pulled away, blinking hazily against the sensation of his brain being muffled in cotton wool. His Alpha towed him back toward the bedroom, and Mycroft fought against the giggles rising in his chest as he watched that deliciously firm bottom swaying in front of him. God, he almost felt - _drunk_.

Greg propped his Omega up against the wall by the bedside table, looking into his face and noting how close he was to simply dropping off. He pressed a swift kiss to one cheek as he went to strip the bed, moving with brisk and precise movements to get some fresh sheets situated. Greg fluffed up the pillows with a satisfied grin and turned back, coming up short as he caught sight of his mate on his knees on the floor.

He felt a swift flash of panic, thinking that perhaps he had neglected to notice just how tired Mycroft was, that he had let him down somehow. But the invisible connection that they had established earlier wasn’t buzzing with any kind of distress; in fact, Greg could only feel a serene sort of peace radiating through it. Mycroft’s chest was falling with steady respiration as he knelt there, his hands motionless on his thighs as he stared down at the floor between his knees.

Greg paused before cautiously stepping over to him, biting his lip as Mycroft barely even acknowledged his presence. He ran his fingers through soft red hair that was still damp from the shower and along his jaw, pulling his face up by his chin. His mate blinked up at him sluggishly, his eyes unfocused but still bright, a somewhat crooked smile ghosting at his lips.

Ah. It seemed that he had finally succumbed to his innate submissiveness, and was clearly riding on a cloud of blissful endorphins. Greg smiled a bit smugly as he ran his thumb over Mycroft’s pink lips, watching as they parted in anticipation. His experience with typical Alpha/Omega relationships was limited, of course, but each of the dalliances that he’d had before connecting with his true mate had followed along some of the same lines. The Omegas that he had studded previously had done a bit more than simply presented themselves to him - they had all submitted to him as well.

In truth, it wasn’t something that he had been expecting of his Bonded, given the power that he wielded in his everyday life, but that didn’t mean that this gift would go unappreciated either. Greg bent down to kiss Mycroft’s temple, stepping away to the kitchenette to fetch something a little more substantial than a simple snack before settling down at the edge of the mattress. He had already endured enough snark from his mate regarding his seeming reluctance to eat, and knew that with the state of mind that Mycroft was in now, he would do absolutely anything that was asked of him.

He cleared his throat softly, watching carefully as his mate’s head twitched in his direction. “Come here, Omega mine.” He spread his legs slightly as Mycroft shifted onto his hands and knees and crawled over to him, silently settling down in the space that had been opened for him. Greg ran his fingers through his hair again, combing it into place, and then he trailed his fingers over the nape of that elegant neck, clasping it firmly.

Mycroft sighed happily, his body completely loose under his Alpha’s touch. A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he felt the spoon nudge against his lips, but he obediently opened up for it, slowly and methodically chewing at the bits of stew that were carefully fed to him. Greg found himself humming low in approval at every spoonful that was swallowed, an almost constant susurrus of sound, rather like a cat purring in contentment.

He was still aware of his mate’s lack of capacity for a full meal, and finished off a healthy portion of the stew himself to prevent an aching belly. With the state that Mycroft was currently in, he would do whatever was asked of him, even to the detriment of his own physical comfort. Greg was highly cognisant of this fact, and felt such a sense of pride that Mycroft had allowed himself to give in, to trust him to the degree that he knew that no harm would come to him.

Greg tidied Mycroft’s person a bit after making him drink a little water, wiping at the corners of his lips and crooning at him in a gentle tone. “Stay put, pet. I’m just going to clean up.”

Mycroft nodded dazedly, keeping to his knees at the side of the bed as Greg ducked into the bathroom with the dirty pot. Time seemed to stretch and sway as he knelt there, the dulling of his mind playing havoc with his outward senses. It was both an eternity and yet just a scant moment before Gregory was with him again, his heartbeat calming as he took in his Alpha’s altered scent, a hint of something rich and deep underlying the sharp bite of spice.

He shivered and dropped his head as broad fingers tickled at the back of his neck, caressing the bond-mark reverently. Although it was still a bit sore, it was a satisfying ache, something that had been well-earned and would be borne with pride. Mycroft stretched into the pain with a tiny moan, his fingers flexing and gripping at his naked thighs. He lifted his head as his Alpha stepped closer, his mouth watering slightly as he caught the scent of his mate’s arousal, something heady and salty and a little bit dangerous, like a storm brewing over the ocean.

Mycroft bit his lip as fingers wrapped around the side of his neck, stiffening with a strangled gasp as a strong thumb pressed down hard over the bruise. A strange jumble of feelings, of sensations, made his head whirl even as his prick plumped up, need tugging at his bollocks. Still he tried to keep to his silence and his position, wishing to please his Alpha in any way he desired. When Gregory finally spoke, it was a revelation from above, his voice soothing in its implacability.

“Up on the bed, pet. Hands and knees, crawl to the pillows.”

Mycroft rose to his feet a little creakily, stretching out his spine as he obeyed, taking advantage of the order to move by swaying his hips rather unnecessarily. He smiled faintly to himself as he heard the indiscriminate noise of lust from behind, arching his back as he came to a stop at the head of the bed.

“Good, pet.” There was no disguising Mycroft’s little shudder of pleasure at the praise, and Greg chuckled quietly as he climbed up after him. “Yes, you’re going to be very good for me, aren’t you?”

Mycroft nodded as he cast an oblique glance over his shoulder, unsure as to whether or not he was even permitted to look, or to speak. What he saw positively made his breath still in his lungs, the look on his Alpha’s face so full of adoration and stark hunger that it nearly rendered him dizzy. No matter how many he had been with before, none had ever looked at him like that - like he was the only possession ever worth having; that he was to be treasured and protected even as he was consumed utterly.

Greg licked his lips as he nodded toward the headboard briefly. “Present, Omega mine.”

Mycroft’s spine wobbled as he stretched his arms out in front of him, spreading his thighs wide as he pressed his chest to the mattress. He stuck his arse up as high as he could, feeling the cool air of the room brushing against the sensitive rim of his hole. He flexed his internal muscles just to hear his Alpha groan behind him, to entice him to smell, to taste and to touch, and hopefully - to fuck.

Greg settled back on his heels between Mycroft’s calves, reaching out to the side to clasp his ankles in his hands. “You’re going to be my plaything for a little while, pet. I don’t know for how long, so I want you to tell me if you get uncomfortable, if you need to switch positions. If you genuinely need relief, tell me. However, I will not tolerate any unseemly begging for my cock. Understood?”    

Mycroft slid his arms underneath a pillow and settled his head into a comfortable position, wriggling into his place. “Yes, sir.”

“ _Unf_. Oh, so good for me...”

Mycroft giggled, but then frowned as there was movement behind him, the mattress bouncing slightly as Gregory seemed to step away for a moment. He didn’t allow himself to give in to the low level of anxiety that suddenly bloomed deep in his belly, as he knew that his Alpha wouldn’t go far, especially not with his Omega so exposed and vulnerable. Indeed, it was but moments later that he was back and spreading towels out underneath him. Oh dear. Mycroft felt a swift dribble running down his leg at just the implication - he was most likely going to soak through it all before Gregory was done with him.

He swiftly sank back into that state of half-dazed uber-awareness, feeling even the lightest of touches as a branding iron over his skin. Long, slow sweeps of his calves and thighs, mapping out every mark, each faint scar or hideous freckle. From time to time, Gregory would hook his fingers into claws and drag his nails over his sensitive flesh, or bestow a wicked pinch only to gently lave the abused spot with his tongue as if to kiss away the hurts that he had gifted to him.

With every nerve in his body singing out, Mycroft’s skin tingled and twitched at each ghostly touch, leaving him to sink into a stupor of overwhelming sensations. With his own body settling into a sort of languorous, quiet ecstasy, he was hardly even aware when his Alpha switched to using his tongue as his main source of entertainment. He was so open and so wet, his slick running down his legs in thick rivulets, that he could barely even feel him as he delved deep. It was only the sounds that Gregory was making that made him aware, frankly alarming growls and heavy slurps that would have driven Mycroft clear out of his mind with disgust if he had been subjected to them at table.

But since he was the meal in question, he could not muster up any sense of outrage over his mate’s stark appreciation of the feast laid out before him. He was vaguely aware as Gregory’s regard slipped into something deeper, his touches gentling and becoming more reverent rather than outright greedy. Mycroft tried to hoist himself up a bit higher as those divinely rough hands squeezed at his arse, as he was held open and achingly empty.  

“Poor sweet Omega...” Mycroft shuddered at the sound of his Alpha’s voice, low and gravelly and sticky with his slick. He whimpered quietly as Gregory shuffled closer, pressing his stiff prick to the inside of his thigh, rubbing against him languidly. “ _Unh_. Just nothing without a fat Alpha cock stuffed up there, hm?” Mycroft shook his head, not to deny him, just to try and keep his mouth shut. He knew with a stark certainty that if he opened it, that nothing but pleading and crying would come out, and he knew that if he begged, he would not get what he wanted - what he so desperately needed.

“Don’t you worry, pet. I know what you need. I’ll take care of you.” Mycroft nodded vigorously as Gregory crooned low, as he felt the blunt head of his cock probing at his entrance. It slipped in with no resistance, and Mycroft whimpered again, squirming slightly in anticipation, no matter how he tried to hold himself still. Gregory sighed as he pushed in deep, his own relief almost palpable.

Mycroft shuddered in absolute delight as his mate’s knot pressed against his rim, knowing that if he pushed just a tiny bit harder, it would pop in with very little effort. He allowed himself a tiny wriggle of happiness as he prepared himself for just one little push... He gasped aloud as Gregory’s hands clamped down hard around his hips, holding him absolutely still.

“Oh no you don’t.”

Mycroft bit down on the pillow tucked under his chin, already damp with sweat and drool. _‘Why, dear God, why?’_ He could feel his Alpha’s need as keenly as his own, not just from the steady throbbing deep within, but also in the connection that they had forged, through their mating bond. He could feel that instinct to fuck and rut as if it were his own, an almost mindless imperative to just take and take until utterly spent. But Gregory was holding fast against it, for no reason that Mycroft could easily ascertain.

Was it just to prove his dominion over his own biology? To prove to himself that he was no mindless beast, that his will was stronger than his libido? Or was it the mastery of his mate that he was striving to establish? Mycroft whimpered low in his chest, his heartbeat thumping in his head. He was here - _right here -_ where Gregory had put him; he had presented himself willingly and was so very open to his attentions. What more could he give to prove himself, to be used in the manner that he so desperately needed?

Mycroft felt a dull ache forming in his shoulders, his entire body trembling with the tension of holding himself still. The pain quickly spread to his neck and down his spine, distracting him from the tight clench of Gregory’s hands even as his fingers trembled in their grip. He clamped down with his stomach muscles, striving to gain some upper hand in this strangely still and silent tug-of-war. Other than the tiniest of grunts from behind, there was no indication that it had any effect whatsoever. Mycroft spat the pillow from his mouth, turning his head to take in a clear breath of air with a small sob.

Something in the sound triggered a change in the connection between them, that fine silver thread vibrating with the same desperate tone. Mycroft blinked the sweat from his eyes as he closed them, once again reaching down within himself, opening his heart, taking his mate’s emotions into himself as his own. A bit of exasperated frustration, yes, but also unending patience, unyielding control. Fathomless love and an overwhelming need to nurture and look after those under his charge, to take care of his mate to the best of his ability.

Oh. _'I'll t_ _ake care of you.’_

Of course.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. Come follow me, and you'll get pretty boys and soft kitties on your dash!


End file.
